This city isn't big, Roage thought. It's colossal.
Sabata stood between the rider and the rising sun. From his viewpoint, the massive domes eclipsed the light, causing a golden glow to border the structures. If it wasn't for the menacing spikes protruding from every direction, the city almost looked inviting.
It was morningtide, and Roage had been riding east nonstop since dawn. With his destination now in sight, he figured now was as good a time as any to take a short break. He climbed from the back of his camel and patted her hair as he unfastened the pack hanging off her side. Inside were his belongings, essential items needed to survive the harsh terrain, such as the waterskin he pulled out.
He pulled loose the facecloth covering his mouth and drained the remaining liquid from the skin. He had estimated the exact amount of water needed for him and his camel for the trip. Perhaps Blue blood runs through me, he mused, thinking about the Blue Tribe and their expertise in water matters. But Roage was from the Yellow Tribe, famous for their spice harvesting. His trade as well.
After replacing his facecloth and tucking it in under his turban, Roage packed the empty waterskin and mounted. He still had a ways to go, which was fine by him since there were still two things he needed to figure out. First, how would he find Moko's family? He would recognize his best friend's family instantly once he saw them, but there was the problem; Sabata has so many people. He would just have to look for spice merchants and hope he gets lucky.
As far as the second question he needed answered, he didn't like to think about it. In fact, he had refused to think about it the entire trip. He was almost there, though, and he knew he needed to consider it.
How do you tell someone their son is dead?
With the question still unanswered in his mind, Roage commanded his camel to move forward, towards the city of Sabata.
Sabata: Bearer of Bad News (Chyril 22nd MT)
Moderator: Mods
With a population of around ten thousand, the City by the Water was a mere village in comparison to the great urban sprawls of the Western Kingdom. Nevertheless, for one accustomed to the transient, tribal settlements of the rest of Terra Incognita, Sabata was a truly imposing sight. Three great domes dominated the skyline. These three did not contain all of the city, but they certainly overshadowed the myriad lesser domes that were in various stages of completion around the outside. Scattered about, too, were individual dwellings, including the type of yurts often erected by the People. Sabata was certainly a city in the process of expansion.
The road upon which Roage stood sloped gently upwards along a natural trough in the great rock outcrop on which the city was built, making its way steadily towards a great gate in the side of the largest of the domes. Several vendors' stalls were set up well outside the city itself, especially foodsellers seeking to sell their steamed bhuuz dumplings to those who had arrived, like Roage, along the great Spice Road. These Sabatans were a strange breed. Pale-skinned, blonde-haired guarrdi wearing the robes of the People held around them by leather belts mixed with those whose tribal origins were plain to see but who wore dull linen shirts and breeches. These were people caught between worlds.
As Roage neared the Market Dome, the clamour from within became apparent. It was hardly surprising that many vendors had set up shop outside. The sound of stallholders hollering and haggling furiously with customers filled the air, along with smells ranging from sweet spice to human excrement. The streets of the market were wide, but lined on each side with rows of stalls and stands and filled with the crush of marketgoers rustling past. It was during morningtide that Sabata's citizens conducted most of their business, before the heat of the sun became too oppressive. The nearer to the centre Roage came, the thicker the crowds he encountered. Being mounted gave him an immediate advantage over pedestrians, who would scrabble to get out of the way of the large, plodding camel, but there would come a point beyond which it would be impossible to continue into the press without dismounting.
As if anticipating this need, the outer streets of the Great Market contained a number of taverns and hostelries offering stabling facilities. Most prominent of these was a medium-sized dome, stretched over which was the gleaming white skeleton of a great dragon. Black trails ran down from its eyes to the sandy floor, framing the inn's doorway.
The road upon which Roage stood sloped gently upwards along a natural trough in the great rock outcrop on which the city was built, making its way steadily towards a great gate in the side of the largest of the domes. Several vendors' stalls were set up well outside the city itself, especially foodsellers seeking to sell their steamed bhuuz dumplings to those who had arrived, like Roage, along the great Spice Road. These Sabatans were a strange breed. Pale-skinned, blonde-haired guarrdi wearing the robes of the People held around them by leather belts mixed with those whose tribal origins were plain to see but who wore dull linen shirts and breeches. These were people caught between worlds.
As Roage neared the Market Dome, the clamour from within became apparent. It was hardly surprising that many vendors had set up shop outside. The sound of stallholders hollering and haggling furiously with customers filled the air, along with smells ranging from sweet spice to human excrement. The streets of the market were wide, but lined on each side with rows of stalls and stands and filled with the crush of marketgoers rustling past. It was during morningtide that Sabata's citizens conducted most of their business, before the heat of the sun became too oppressive. The nearer to the centre Roage came, the thicker the crowds he encountered. Being mounted gave him an immediate advantage over pedestrians, who would scrabble to get out of the way of the large, plodding camel, but there would come a point beyond which it would be impossible to continue into the press without dismounting.
As if anticipating this need, the outer streets of the Great Market contained a number of taverns and hostelries offering stabling facilities. Most prominent of these was a medium-sized dome, stretched over which was the gleaming white skeleton of a great dragon. Black trails ran down from its eyes to the sandy floor, framing the inn's doorway.
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
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He navigated the unfamiliar city streets while dragging his camel behind him. His pace on foot was sluggish, and he felt he was going nowhere at all.
"I need to find a place for you," he said, directing it to the camel, but the sound was drowned in the noise before it got to her. She wouldn’t have understood anyway.
He looked for suitable establishments, and while he had his reservations about the building with the bones on display - he viewed dragons as devious, even in death - the place seemed to have the accommodations he desired. He made his way to the stables, secured his camel, and went inside with intentions to negotiate pricing and perhaps buy a meal.
"I need to find a place for you," he said, directing it to the camel, but the sound was drowned in the noise before it got to her. She wouldn’t have understood anyway.
He looked for suitable establishments, and while he had his reservations about the building with the bones on display - he viewed dragons as devious, even in death - the place seemed to have the accommodations he desired. He made his way to the stables, secured his camel, and went inside with intentions to negotiate pricing and perhaps buy a meal.
Roage's camel was taken without comment by a young man of about twenty-three yahren, who greeted him with a formal "Kal'essen" and a smile. A slight lack of enthusiasm in the smile, along with the man's well-groomed appearance, betrayed that stable work was not his favourite of employments, but he stoically guided the camel to an empty stall.
Passing through the dragon's mouth, Roage found himself in a large common room, well lit by lanterns that hang from the ceiling. On the far side of the common area, directly across from the door, stood a well stocked bar and a bartender with deep brown skin and golden hoops through his ears. To the right was a stairwell leading up above the common room, and to the left stood a small stage, currently standing empty.
Dotted around were the inhabitants of the tavern. Scattered about on tables and chairs, men and women drank, ate and conversed loudly. The crowd was diverse, and more foreigners can be seen than natives of Terra Incognita. At one table were a group of heavyset men with weapons strapped to their belts, playing cards. At another, a slim guarrdi with mousey brown hair, surrounded by an assortment of parchments and drink receptacles, was talking with one who seemed by his worn black robes to be a member of the Priests' Tribe of the People. This second man was of a considerable age, and when he smiled he revealed opium-blackened teeth. To one side of the room, alone at a table, was another man in a black robe, although this one was of a tailored style common only to the guarrdi. His eyes were downcast into his tankard of ale. No one looked up as Roage entered.
Passing through the dragon's mouth, Roage found himself in a large common room, well lit by lanterns that hang from the ceiling. On the far side of the common area, directly across from the door, stood a well stocked bar and a bartender with deep brown skin and golden hoops through his ears. To the right was a stairwell leading up above the common room, and to the left stood a small stage, currently standing empty.
Dotted around were the inhabitants of the tavern. Scattered about on tables and chairs, men and women drank, ate and conversed loudly. The crowd was diverse, and more foreigners can be seen than natives of Terra Incognita. At one table were a group of heavyset men with weapons strapped to their belts, playing cards. At another, a slim guarrdi with mousey brown hair, surrounded by an assortment of parchments and drink receptacles, was talking with one who seemed by his worn black robes to be a member of the Priests' Tribe of the People. This second man was of a considerable age, and when he smiled he revealed opium-blackened teeth. To one side of the room, alone at a table, was another man in a black robe, although this one was of a tailored style common only to the guarrdi. His eyes were downcast into his tankard of ale. No one looked up as Roage entered.
[size=84][i]"She told me I had too much to dream last night..."[/i] - [i]Apprentice of the Universe[/i], Pure Reason Revolution
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]
Avatar by [url=http://pixieface.deviantart.com]Liz Green[/url][/size]