((It took me so long to write this I have no idea if you people already established tons of canon and rules I'm now breaking.))
The convoy passed through in silence, great winged beasts-of-burden dragging their few remaining belongings behind them. The myriad scorch marks and cuts were testament to their humiliation and slaughter just three days earlier. The women, their usually colourful dresses now worn and covered in dust and dried blood, kept their eyes to the front with blank or mournful stares. The few men carried their wounds with quiet resignation and regret, scanning the horizon with their eyes. Even the children were quiet, perhaps the most abnormal fact about the caravan altogether.
They didn't meet the gaze of the citizens down on the streets. Some smiled in sympathy, but most spat and cursed at them. The message was clear - they were not welcome here. They were not welcome anywhere where the masses of land-dwellers kept rule. How long would the guardsmen allow their stay? A week at most. And if they didn't get the hint, they'd come in the night with torches...
'We'll be out of here by tomorrow.' Masih whispered. Bahat shook her head. Masih was her sister, and like her, she had shaved her head. It signified their willingness to surrender themselves to guiding spirits for travel in the Twilight World. It was a dangerous journey, and the Walkers did not always return. They also shared the same sharp, aquiline features and large black eyes of their father. They were dressed in miscellanous rags and fabrics tied together. Dozens of pouches, talismans and ornaments in all colours hanged from their clothing.
'Probably sooner, judging from their expressions.' Bahat replied, snorting. 'What do you want?'
'Father wants you to go buy supplies and food for the the animals.' Masih said, opening her palms to reveal several jewels and golden trinkets. In the past, the caravans had travelled with great treasures and wonders, but nowadays they were being forced to sell them to survive. She had heard the mighty golden lion that stood on the gates of this very city had once been carried by one of the other clans. These land-dwellers refused to admit it, which did not surprise Bahat in the slightest. The trinkets her sister was offering her would barely be worth a few barrels of fish, which was what their flies mostly ate. She said as much.
'Just get whatever you can.' Masih replied. 'We'll survive. We always have.'
Once, Bahat would've smiled at that comment. But their age was long over, and the few surviving clans were only prolonging the inevitable. What had happened three days ago just proved that. No-one offered them any hospitality any more, and no-one needed their abilities anymore. Once the land-dweller wizards had realized how to enslave and bind spirits into their service, there was no need for her people to make pacts with them anymore. She hated seeing them in such condition. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands trapped in circles all across the land. It was getting more and more dangerous to visit the Twilight World and soar with the spirits. They had begun to blame all of humanity for their slavery.
She took the trinkets and dropped them into her myriad pockets, then let herself fall off their beast. The thing was easily the size of a small building, and looked somewhat like an aerial manta ray. It carried the pile of chests and belongings on its back with ease. Bahat didn't know what it was called - their old flier had been slaughtered in the battle - but did not really care. They were quickly dying of extinction, just like the people on their backs. Would the land-dwellers even remember them once they were gone?
She shook off such morbid thoughts, and looked around on the street. Her feet sank into the mud, and she once again wondered how the citizens could live for such long periods of time on land. They passed her quickly and with angry glances, muttering things like 'witch' and 'thief'. Mothers pulled their children closer and old men spat in the ground in her way. It did not matter. She had long before grown used to it. They would forget their bigotry for gold in any case.
Worn wooden signs hanged from the side of buildings on several streets. Bahat could not make out what they said, so she picked one at random and started walking down towards it.
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Topic: Medieval Fantasy Freeform RP (Read 4396 times)