33rd of Fall, 516 AV
19th Bell
19th Bell
It had rained two weeks ago and a blitz attack had left several wounded and a few missing. The weak of faith believed them dead and had spent the days that followed in mourning. There were those who held on to the belief that Drykas were strong and not so easy to give up amidst harsh realities. After all, they roamed in one of the harshest realities in the world; the Sea of Grass. The weather had been unseasonably warm and it was beginning to make things difficult but today promised a bit of rest and some much needed rain.
The sky was dark with clouds. The cold liquid began to fall in tiny drops and at first, it was simply refreshing. Animals and children frolicked as the long line of Drykas moved into their new camp. A small stream flowed from north to south and filled several small pools created by the terrain’s random elevation. Several Watch members and some ankals of the Amethyst clan made sure to steer everyone away from the water sources. It was always prudent to make sure that no herds were too close to the fresh water. Domestic animals had a way of fowling up things like streams and pools if they were given the time and proximity.
As the caravan broke into segments and pavilions branched off, the rain began to fall a bit harder but it was still nice to be out in the drizzle. Drykas set up their pavilions, herded their livestock and unpacked their wagons. The endless line of men, women, children and animals seemed to unravel as groups of travelers went here and there. A bell ago, this was all just a normal piece of land nestled between two of the rolling steppes. Now it was crawling with several thousand people and thousands more animals.
Eyes watched from the back of a strider as the city began to sprawl across the open space. His partners were alert but this was a time, in general, of easement and relaxation. Despite the incident earlier this season, things had been relatively quiet aside from a very hot autumn. When the Drykas were all in one place, there were very few things that were a danger. The Sea of Grass was home to some of the meanest, craftiest and nastiest creatures on all of Mizahar but everything was wise enough to avoid the massive encampment known as Endrykas.
The weather had held for several bells and the rain did not change but visibility did. Fog appeared almost out of nowhere and crept along the edges of the blossoming city. Most people were unaware or apathetic to the regularly seen apparition. Some even took it as a good sign. The sounds of hammers driving stakes, women hollering for children and men cursing at animals built up into an emotional symphony of normalcy. It echoed across the tall grasses and whispered in between the constant and sporadic kamikaze flights of the rain. A scream split the air like a peel of thunder and all eyes turned to stare up where the Watch had been. All anyone saw was a trio of striders riding down the steppe without riders.
The alarm had been raised and weapons were drawn but camp still had to be made. Those skilled in the art dove into the web to search for answers. As groups were directed by the Watch, patrols rode up and down the spawning establishment. The more the fog thickened, the more the nerves of the people tensed. The playful shouts and singing were gone replaced by parents shouting for their children to come home and leaders giving orders for perimeters to be set and rotations created. For nearly a bell, this preventative action seemed to deter whatever had made the initial attack. Speculation had it that the culprits had either gotten their fill or were scared off by the quick and impressive show of force; the old had other thoughts and coached diligence.
34th of Fall, 516 AV
2nd Bell
2nd Bell
The light of Syna was gone, the storm clouds had become thick enough to forbid Leth from shining and the fog continued to fill Endrykas. The rain had never ceased and was making the world a muddy mess but the fog was a bigger concern. Its wispy fingers permeated the riding paths, obscured pavilions from their neighbors and made most people a bit more rigid than they should be. In the quiet night, the moist clouds also muffled sounds. In one Opal camp, a young girl woke and asked her father why her heart was beating so loud. The man was confused and patient so he scooped her up held her tight. The strong arms of her father soothed the young child who tugged at her braided ponytail and listened to her father’s breathing through his chest. The man took her out of the tent to walk around. His boots squished in the soggy soil as he whispered songs trying to ease the late night disturbance in her mind.
“There it is again, papa!” The bright eyes gazed into those of her patriarch when her tiny head lifted. This time, the Drykas man heard it too but it wasn’t the rhythm of life's organ. It was the sound of wings breaking the pattern of raindrops hitting the grass and canvas tents. These repetitive dead spots could only mean one thing and the man knew it. He wrapped his daughter up tightly and dove to the ground. Through tears of pain, the huge frame of the Drykas shielded his daughter who only felt the wet earth and her warm father. She could not know that his back was ripped open along his spine by razor-sharp claws. This was the strength of the Drykas and they would need it in the bells to come.
Shouts of surprise and anger, screams of pain and loss filled the camp. If one was standing near the Wind Knotted Gates, he could assume four separate attacks. One was in the Opal spoke, another along the Amethyst section while the Emerald and Ruby clans also seemed to have unwelcomed guests. The Zith had struck again and this time it was more than just a simple raid…
It was war.