41st – Spring – 516 AV
17th Bell
Border of Morealis – Askara plantations.
WIKUS
Thanks to Kiva for this amazing template.
17th Bell
Border of Morealis – Askara plantations.
It was a pleasant day to walk the old stone road through the swamps. The tall trees loomed over the uneven road, threatening to fall once and for all and cut out this forsaken scar in the land and trap everyone within. Such thought scared the ousted Drykas. The humidity, the constant sounds that came from everywhere, and especially the water brought a fear within him that urged him to hurry forth. Last fall he had passed through the great open plains of the Sea of Grass just to avoid the black spot in the road that was Kenash’ swamp, even if it meant not stopping to resupply. This spring was a whole new challenge, not only because he was forcing himself to follow the road, but because the company of the kid he carried along wouldn’t allow him to stop for supplies either. Taking the donkey’s mane with his hand, he’d force the animal to keep dragging the wagon no matter how hard it was, the roots of the trees having displaced many of the stones and turning the sojourn into a challenge. Once the immediate rough patch was passed, Wikus let go and continued salvaging supplies.
The swamp was certainly a place of life. Beside the hordes of insects and the insane amount of reptiles that live within, the flora was also quite astonishing. Sometimes under the sight of a pretty flower past a pond of water, Wikus had to hold his desire of catching that flower and instead remain in the road. Thankfully, the road was as plagued of it all as the swamp itself, apparently. Quickly moving from one side of the road to the other, Wikus found a flower here and there, immediately adding it to the already extensive collection in his basket. Most were easily forgettable, yet once in a while he came across one that truly mesmerized him. Those premium flowers always ended on his beard. As he was picking a daisy, his eyes caught a glimpse of a fast movement nearby. Without a doubt, Wikus tossed himself over the small figure in attempts of trapping the small lizard beneath his body. Landing on the ground, he quickly looked around to see if he was successful, the answer being a clear no as the lizard attempted to escape in a zigzag motion in front of his head. The palms of his hands coming forward like stones raining from the sky, trying to catch the fast lizard to eventually
successfully capture it.
Standing up now as he looked at the small reptile, a thumb was all he needed to press the lizard’s head back and effectively breaking the small gecko’s neck. His size wasn’t anything impressive, yet it would still be a good meal once man, donkey and child escaped the swamp. Moving back to the wagon, he’d drop the dead reptile in the pile. The blue eyes gazed at Timothy, the frown returning to his ashen features as it usually did when looking at the child. The child’s health had been degrading more and more each day they spent together, and seeing that was devastating for Wikus. The wagon still being pulled by the lazy mule, Wikus walked beside it as he shamelessly stared at the child. Squinting his eyes, Wikus’ hands would reach towards the small pouch that sat near the boy after letting his basket rest on the uncovered wagon. “I told you eat. You become better.” Pouring some of the pouch’s contents in his hand, the bugs quickly fell upon his open palm and began crawling each their own way in attempts of escaping. Ants, beetles, worms… They all ended in Wikus’ mouth, chewing them loudly for the boy to understand they were completely edible. Closing the pouch once again, he’d return it by the boy’s side.
“Come.” He’d say, reaching for the boy’s arm and pulling him closer. As harsh as expected, he’d take the boy by the jaw as his other hand fiddled with yet another pouch. Retrieving a small amount of ash, he’d harshly coat the boy’s face with it. Not only was the ash useful against the sun, but also effective to block the mosquitoes’ evil intentions. He applied a new coat of it over his shoulders, too, especially since the humidity of this environment was causing his ash coat to leak through his wet skin. “We reach green soon then camp, understand? Eat.” Staying for a moment to see if the boy obeyed, he took his basket back and returned to the front line. He needed to get rid of this boy before it was too late. Carrying a child’s death on his back was something he couldn’t do twice, yet there wasn’t really a way for him to dispose of the unwanted company without condemning one of them to certain death. This once, he saw something in the distance, traveling the same road they did. Another wagon, and a few figures roaming around it. Coming across a fellow traveler was never good news, because just like him, they were usually filled with wrong intentions. Few traveled, and those who did cared not to take a life if it meant another day on the road.
Taking a hold of the donkey and dragging him forward through the difficult road, Wikus slowly began preparing himself for the worst. No matter how close they were to the city, a road was still a road. “Now silence.” He’d say, directed obviously to Timothy as the donkey spoke a different language. The closer the travelers got, the closer they stuck together, Wikus already fearing they were conspiring against them. The next chimes were somewhat tense, both groups observing themselves from the distance, the details of each individual being revealed as the distance between them waned. Wikus’ hand went to his improvised belt, the 9’ whip being fairly easy to unroll should a conflict arise. It would also cause his pants to drop, which would allow him the extra freedom to perform better. It was until they were about to pass each other that the opposite wagon halted, one of the men raising an arm and offering a loud ‘Greetings!’ towards Wikus. Forced to interact with them, the man would glance back towards Timothy before facing the group, halting the donkey and inspecting each of the individuals. Two of them were clearly slaves, the manacles and overall inferior hygiene. The five others were not really clean themselves, but they had weapons.
“Kenash ‘round, ye?” Asked one of them, an individual with a beard of much inferior quality than Wikus’. Furthermore, the stranger stepped closer to Wikus, who in exchange approached the edge of the shabby road and the waters that waited just below. The individual glanced at the wagon. “Ye’lone ‘ere?” The voice was annoying, the sound similar to a mock voice due to its bizarre tone and intonation. It was like hearing a cat speak. The individual himself was rather thin, not as much as Wikus, yet still below the average. The sweat fell from his face, the acne scars having cursed him in his youth, and his mouth moved as if chewing on something he couldn’t quite swallow. Both standing on the edge of the road, two of the other individuals were slowly making his way around the back of Wikus’ wagon, while the two remaining were approaching Wikus. Tick after tick, he felt the situation was growing more and more out of control, so Wikus mentally prepared himself for the inevitable. Better safe than sorry. Just then and there, the speaker for the opposing group attempted to tap Wikus’ shoulder.
Wikus’ paranoia in the wilderness made itself visible once again, as quickly he’d take a hold of the arm as he stepped forward, pulling it as he spun on his heels and ducked. Using his hip as leverage, the hard yank would serve to effectively and almost effortlessly send the male flying into the waters below with Wikus’ arm throw. The intention was nothing more than to warn the individual that he shouldn’t touch a stranger in the wild, and punish his action with a bath. However, be it out of fortune or misfortune, just as the male’s body landed in the water a creature made his presence known. The gigantic jaws opened and immediately closed on the man’s leg before a violent jerk began tearing the flesh of the male as much as his throat tore from screaming. The gigantic reptile, an alligator, surprised Wikus beyond words, now him being the murderer of the man despite his ignorance about the creature’s presence by the road. Quickly reaching to retrieve his improvised belt, he’d quickly turn to the direction the slavers came from and yell out to the boy he came with.
“RUN!”
The swamp was certainly a place of life. Beside the hordes of insects and the insane amount of reptiles that live within, the flora was also quite astonishing. Sometimes under the sight of a pretty flower past a pond of water, Wikus had to hold his desire of catching that flower and instead remain in the road. Thankfully, the road was as plagued of it all as the swamp itself, apparently. Quickly moving from one side of the road to the other, Wikus found a flower here and there, immediately adding it to the already extensive collection in his basket. Most were easily forgettable, yet once in a while he came across one that truly mesmerized him. Those premium flowers always ended on his beard. As he was picking a daisy, his eyes caught a glimpse of a fast movement nearby. Without a doubt, Wikus tossed himself over the small figure in attempts of trapping the small lizard beneath his body. Landing on the ground, he quickly looked around to see if he was successful, the answer being a clear no as the lizard attempted to escape in a zigzag motion in front of his head. The palms of his hands coming forward like stones raining from the sky, trying to catch the fast lizard to eventually
successfully capture it.
Standing up now as he looked at the small reptile, a thumb was all he needed to press the lizard’s head back and effectively breaking the small gecko’s neck. His size wasn’t anything impressive, yet it would still be a good meal once man, donkey and child escaped the swamp. Moving back to the wagon, he’d drop the dead reptile in the pile. The blue eyes gazed at Timothy, the frown returning to his ashen features as it usually did when looking at the child. The child’s health had been degrading more and more each day they spent together, and seeing that was devastating for Wikus. The wagon still being pulled by the lazy mule, Wikus walked beside it as he shamelessly stared at the child. Squinting his eyes, Wikus’ hands would reach towards the small pouch that sat near the boy after letting his basket rest on the uncovered wagon. “I told you eat. You become better.” Pouring some of the pouch’s contents in his hand, the bugs quickly fell upon his open palm and began crawling each their own way in attempts of escaping. Ants, beetles, worms… They all ended in Wikus’ mouth, chewing them loudly for the boy to understand they were completely edible. Closing the pouch once again, he’d return it by the boy’s side.
“Come.” He’d say, reaching for the boy’s arm and pulling him closer. As harsh as expected, he’d take the boy by the jaw as his other hand fiddled with yet another pouch. Retrieving a small amount of ash, he’d harshly coat the boy’s face with it. Not only was the ash useful against the sun, but also effective to block the mosquitoes’ evil intentions. He applied a new coat of it over his shoulders, too, especially since the humidity of this environment was causing his ash coat to leak through his wet skin. “We reach green soon then camp, understand? Eat.” Staying for a moment to see if the boy obeyed, he took his basket back and returned to the front line. He needed to get rid of this boy before it was too late. Carrying a child’s death on his back was something he couldn’t do twice, yet there wasn’t really a way for him to dispose of the unwanted company without condemning one of them to certain death. This once, he saw something in the distance, traveling the same road they did. Another wagon, and a few figures roaming around it. Coming across a fellow traveler was never good news, because just like him, they were usually filled with wrong intentions. Few traveled, and those who did cared not to take a life if it meant another day on the road.
Taking a hold of the donkey and dragging him forward through the difficult road, Wikus slowly began preparing himself for the worst. No matter how close they were to the city, a road was still a road. “Now silence.” He’d say, directed obviously to Timothy as the donkey spoke a different language. The closer the travelers got, the closer they stuck together, Wikus already fearing they were conspiring against them. The next chimes were somewhat tense, both groups observing themselves from the distance, the details of each individual being revealed as the distance between them waned. Wikus’ hand went to his improvised belt, the 9’ whip being fairly easy to unroll should a conflict arise. It would also cause his pants to drop, which would allow him the extra freedom to perform better. It was until they were about to pass each other that the opposite wagon halted, one of the men raising an arm and offering a loud ‘Greetings!’ towards Wikus. Forced to interact with them, the man would glance back towards Timothy before facing the group, halting the donkey and inspecting each of the individuals. Two of them were clearly slaves, the manacles and overall inferior hygiene. The five others were not really clean themselves, but they had weapons.
“Kenash ‘round, ye?” Asked one of them, an individual with a beard of much inferior quality than Wikus’. Furthermore, the stranger stepped closer to Wikus, who in exchange approached the edge of the shabby road and the waters that waited just below. The individual glanced at the wagon. “Ye’lone ‘ere?” The voice was annoying, the sound similar to a mock voice due to its bizarre tone and intonation. It was like hearing a cat speak. The individual himself was rather thin, not as much as Wikus, yet still below the average. The sweat fell from his face, the acne scars having cursed him in his youth, and his mouth moved as if chewing on something he couldn’t quite swallow. Both standing on the edge of the road, two of the other individuals were slowly making his way around the back of Wikus’ wagon, while the two remaining were approaching Wikus. Tick after tick, he felt the situation was growing more and more out of control, so Wikus mentally prepared himself for the inevitable. Better safe than sorry. Just then and there, the speaker for the opposing group attempted to tap Wikus’ shoulder.
Wikus’ paranoia in the wilderness made itself visible once again, as quickly he’d take a hold of the arm as he stepped forward, pulling it as he spun on his heels and ducked. Using his hip as leverage, the hard yank would serve to effectively and almost effortlessly send the male flying into the waters below with Wikus’ arm throw. The intention was nothing more than to warn the individual that he shouldn’t touch a stranger in the wild, and punish his action with a bath. However, be it out of fortune or misfortune, just as the male’s body landed in the water a creature made his presence known. The gigantic jaws opened and immediately closed on the man’s leg before a violent jerk began tearing the flesh of the male as much as his throat tore from screaming. The gigantic reptile, an alligator, surprised Wikus beyond words, now him being the murderer of the man despite his ignorance about the creature’s presence by the road. Quickly reaching to retrieve his improvised belt, he’d quickly turn to the direction the slavers came from and yell out to the boy he came with.
“RUN!”
WIKUS
Thanks to Kiva for this amazing template.
