Timestamp: 5th of Spring, 517AV
Sitting up against the back of the wooden rails of the wagon, Turrin ignored the bumpiness of the ride since all his focus was on the scars on his left arm. The scars given to him by a wolf symbolized a turning point in his life where he became more than just a half breed savage in the eyes of the Inarta. At the moment, the wolf bite into his arms his life was changed forever. This was the day, Aponivi, wind eagle, bonded with him and made him a Endal of Wind Reach. All Inarta children dreamed of being Endals, and Turrin was no different from his full blooded peers. Even in the humid jungles of Falyndar with his father's people, young Turrin and his sister were told stories of the noble Endal who flew over the mountains of Kalea by his Inarta mother. Stories of wind eagles and fierce red head Endal filled his head every night when he was boy. It was magical time for him, and tt was the only bright spot for the young half breed in the jungles around Taloba.
When he got to Wind Reach reality started to shattered his boyhood fantasy of the noble Endal. Nothing of the stories were true accept for the majesty of wind eagles. They were the true masters of Wind Reach and the lands around Skyinarta and not the hedonistic bastards most Endal lords. Without the wind eagles, Endal and the Inarta wouldn't exist. Clenching his fist, he felt a pang of anger well over him as he remember the atrocities his caste inflicted over the lower castes. It was survival at the fittest at it worst. Mortal dignity was thrown to wayside as the Endal took whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. He didn't have enough fingers to on his hands to count the number of times. Heard his fellow peers talk about abusing the lower castes or seeing a young women or men from the lower caste leaving a aeries in tears as he knew their dignity was just taken away the night before. Endal ruled with fear, and the lower castes resented them for it, and being a transplant from Taloba, he resented his peers for it as much as the lower castes because even if he tried to be fair and just leader. The lower castes still saw him as a tyrant. Memories were all that he had of Wind Reach. He was a Inarta, and the memories of the people that he met in the mountain cities were just ghosts now.
Feeling the wagon shake and rattled as it went over the uneven ground. Turrin couldn't believe how far that he fallen since he lost Aponivi. He soared through the sky with a commanding presence as he patrol the mountains, forests, valleys, and rivers of Kalea. Now he was a mercenary in the back of wagon full of trinkets and nick-nacks bound for the city of the Drykas, Endrykas. He was hired in Riverfall by the caravan master to protect the caravan from the threats of Sea of Grass, but in the five day, it was uneventful, so he was left to own devices to reminisce on the past. It was something that he tried to avoid lately because it always put him in a sour mood.
The sun burned wagoner called back to him in common, “Silent One!” It was his nickname given to Turrin, and Turrin didn't care for it one bit. The wagoner said with a toothless grin, “I know it was mostly me talking the trip, and...” The Inarta rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement with the wagoner. Yes, he talked most of the trip, and it hasn't stopped for the entirety of the WHOLE trip! To make matters worse, the human even talked in his sleep.
Turrin looked at the human and said softly in a thick Inarta accent, “I tried talking but you keep interru...” The Inarta just looked up at the sky in frustration as the wagoner interrupted him again.
The wagoner laughed, “Well, I wished the conversation could have better, but we are here, so how long are you going to stay? You going to come back to Riverfall with us?”
The Inarta just looked at him with annoyance and said, “I think.. I will catch the next caravan...”
“Suit yourself, Golden Eyes...it might be awhile till the next one. It a hard life out here, and the drykas won't coddle you.”
Sitting up against the back of the wooden rails of the wagon, Turrin ignored the bumpiness of the ride since all his focus was on the scars on his left arm. The scars given to him by a wolf symbolized a turning point in his life where he became more than just a half breed savage in the eyes of the Inarta. At the moment, the wolf bite into his arms his life was changed forever. This was the day, Aponivi, wind eagle, bonded with him and made him a Endal of Wind Reach. All Inarta children dreamed of being Endals, and Turrin was no different from his full blooded peers. Even in the humid jungles of Falyndar with his father's people, young Turrin and his sister were told stories of the noble Endal who flew over the mountains of Kalea by his Inarta mother. Stories of wind eagles and fierce red head Endal filled his head every night when he was boy. It was magical time for him, and tt was the only bright spot for the young half breed in the jungles around Taloba.
When he got to Wind Reach reality started to shattered his boyhood fantasy of the noble Endal. Nothing of the stories were true accept for the majesty of wind eagles. They were the true masters of Wind Reach and the lands around Skyinarta and not the hedonistic bastards most Endal lords. Without the wind eagles, Endal and the Inarta wouldn't exist. Clenching his fist, he felt a pang of anger well over him as he remember the atrocities his caste inflicted over the lower castes. It was survival at the fittest at it worst. Mortal dignity was thrown to wayside as the Endal took whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. He didn't have enough fingers to on his hands to count the number of times. Heard his fellow peers talk about abusing the lower castes or seeing a young women or men from the lower caste leaving a aeries in tears as he knew their dignity was just taken away the night before. Endal ruled with fear, and the lower castes resented them for it, and being a transplant from Taloba, he resented his peers for it as much as the lower castes because even if he tried to be fair and just leader. The lower castes still saw him as a tyrant. Memories were all that he had of Wind Reach. He was a Inarta, and the memories of the people that he met in the mountain cities were just ghosts now.
Feeling the wagon shake and rattled as it went over the uneven ground. Turrin couldn't believe how far that he fallen since he lost Aponivi. He soared through the sky with a commanding presence as he patrol the mountains, forests, valleys, and rivers of Kalea. Now he was a mercenary in the back of wagon full of trinkets and nick-nacks bound for the city of the Drykas, Endrykas. He was hired in Riverfall by the caravan master to protect the caravan from the threats of Sea of Grass, but in the five day, it was uneventful, so he was left to own devices to reminisce on the past. It was something that he tried to avoid lately because it always put him in a sour mood.
The sun burned wagoner called back to him in common, “Silent One!” It was his nickname given to Turrin, and Turrin didn't care for it one bit. The wagoner said with a toothless grin, “I know it was mostly me talking the trip, and...” The Inarta rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement with the wagoner. Yes, he talked most of the trip, and it hasn't stopped for the entirety of the WHOLE trip! To make matters worse, the human even talked in his sleep.
Turrin looked at the human and said softly in a thick Inarta accent, “I tried talking but you keep interru...” The Inarta just looked up at the sky in frustration as the wagoner interrupted him again.
The wagoner laughed, “Well, I wished the conversation could have better, but we are here, so how long are you going to stay? You going to come back to Riverfall with us?”
The Inarta just looked at him with annoyance and said, “I think.. I will catch the next caravan...”
“Suit yourself, Golden Eyes...it might be awhile till the next one. It a hard life out here, and the drykas won't coddle you.”