Samheen 28th ET
Beneath the great open sky, amidst the great open sands, a girl's foot tapped impatiently on the tail of a dragon. Or, more accurately, upon the Dragon's Backbone. The curved ridge of rock was one of the few sources of shade within a day's ride. A temporary reprieve from the merciless sun and punishing desert wind for many a caravan. And a place of mystery. Here, Arigha had alarmed both parents and peers as a youngster, by tempting the spirits and playing in the shallow caves and hollowed holes of the ancient landmark. And it was here that she had played out her first few tentative notes on the flute when that had caught her fancy. The inexperienced musician had driven half her clan mad with the noise (and she would have pointed out that the feeling went both ways...) and been forced to her secret retreat for inspiration and solitude.
Here, also, under the glamour of the Dragon's Eye and a hot Jygust night, she had danced for a boy. A strong but stupid, stupid boy. And now she was a woman and danced her own path alone in the Sands. And he was a man, married to money and his sense of duty.
Such thoughts inspired her now to strike a carefree pose and spin around lazily but gracefully en pointe. She described a dashing series of arcs and turns across a narrow path of stone, before coming to ground at the foot of the formation where she had set up camp. Waiting. Her and some blankets and stale bread. And two camels.
She had left after midday meal, traveling in the tradetide as the sun waned and eveningtide's shade would lessen the effort. Making her way to the Backbone just as the sandy-feathered owl of the desert started out on its silent search for prey, she would spend the night here. Then, when the traders -rich with her ex-love's funds, no doubt - came near on their way back to the great city, she would join them. An attractive young woman who could tend the camels should be a welcome travel companion. Especially as her music had improved somewhat these past few seasons. (At least, in her own opinion.)
Dancing on a Dragon's Back - Samheen 28 ET
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It would be a night the Anddi-sus would remember for the rest of her life. The night her adventure truly started. For what she had thought of as her place of reprieve, the Dragon’s Backbone, her place of solitude would be forever tainted by the scene of destruction that erupted on the expanse of sand beneath the rocky crags.
It started as a circle of blue light, almost mistakable for the Dragon’s Eye. Floating in the sky, her mind registered it only as that, a single bluish bright spot in the black. Never mind that it was in the opposite side of the heavens than the true Guide Star. Her mind quickly adjusted. She had traveled the desert long enough to realize the star was positioned strangely. And then it grew. This was no star.
In cold and windless desert night, sand suddenly began to blow. It rose from the floor beneath the crags, swirling in the pattern of a djinn’s giant dust devil. Gaining speed faster than any storm the young woman had ever seen, the tunnel of sand launched itself upward into the sky as if it were desperately trying to pierce the circle of blue light; the circle of light that was now the size of large tent. It grew faster and faster until it filled the sky above Arigh’s head. It was truly an awesome sight.
As she watched, the blue circle descended until it was no more than a man’s height above the ground. From her vantage point, it seemed almost translucent. She could see the earth beneath the disc, clouded by a glowing blue haze but visible nonetheless. When debris began to spew forth from the disc like a giant mouth, she could do nothing but stare. First, it was pieces of wood, falling like rain on the sandy floor of the desert or cracking against the lower crags of the ridge. Then it was the bodies.
They fell with thuds so loud she could hear them echo from her perch atop the rocks. Sometimes, screams followed but they ended quickly, echoing softly in the eerie azure lit night. The screams were far between. Some that landed did not land alive.
What had it been? For Arigh, it was impossible to tell. Debris, metal and wood, and bodies fell for another burn until a great pile lay near the foot of the landmark. Moans of pain rose like spirits from the wreckage, but her attention was drawn immediately to a trio of bodies that landed after the bulk of the crash. They seemed to float where the others had plummeted. Looking closely, she could they rested on a dark cloth as if they’d been purposely lain there. The three still landed hard. She imagined she heard a muffled grunt when they did. At least one was still alive.
It started as a circle of blue light, almost mistakable for the Dragon’s Eye. Floating in the sky, her mind registered it only as that, a single bluish bright spot in the black. Never mind that it was in the opposite side of the heavens than the true Guide Star. Her mind quickly adjusted. She had traveled the desert long enough to realize the star was positioned strangely. And then it grew. This was no star.
In cold and windless desert night, sand suddenly began to blow. It rose from the floor beneath the crags, swirling in the pattern of a djinn’s giant dust devil. Gaining speed faster than any storm the young woman had ever seen, the tunnel of sand launched itself upward into the sky as if it were desperately trying to pierce the circle of blue light; the circle of light that was now the size of large tent. It grew faster and faster until it filled the sky above Arigh’s head. It was truly an awesome sight.
As she watched, the blue circle descended until it was no more than a man’s height above the ground. From her vantage point, it seemed almost translucent. She could see the earth beneath the disc, clouded by a glowing blue haze but visible nonetheless. When debris began to spew forth from the disc like a giant mouth, she could do nothing but stare. First, it was pieces of wood, falling like rain on the sandy floor of the desert or cracking against the lower crags of the ridge. Then it was the bodies.
They fell with thuds so loud she could hear them echo from her perch atop the rocks. Sometimes, screams followed but they ended quickly, echoing softly in the eerie azure lit night. The screams were far between. Some that landed did not land alive.
What had it been? For Arigh, it was impossible to tell. Debris, metal and wood, and bodies fell for another burn until a great pile lay near the foot of the landmark. Moans of pain rose like spirits from the wreckage, but her attention was drawn immediately to a trio of bodies that landed after the bulk of the crash. They seemed to float where the others had plummeted. Looking closely, she could they rested on a dark cloth as if they’d been purposely lain there. The three still landed hard. She imagined she heard a muffled grunt when they did. At least one was still alive.
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Ari looked up into the night sky, remembering her past and wondering how folk would react to her departure. Would her family forgive her? Would Temi realize his mistakes ad come after? Would she become a local legend, an example to warn children?
She hung each question on a star, counting her way across the sky - as if the heavens might answer her.
And perhaps they did. For there was a new star. She had thought for a moment that her sense of direction was off, but no. A strange bluish light was in the sky and it was no familiar guide. In fact is was not a star - for it seemed to grow and pulse and come nearer to the earth. A fallen star? An answer from the spirits? Or was this some trick of the dragons or djinn? The light came from the sky, and the sands seemed to rise from the ground in answer. Such a wind drew up a whirling shape of sand, more quickly than any that Arigha had witnessed. She knew then that this was no natural event.
Her first instinct - her aunts would have been proud if not downright incredulous - was to tend to her animals. Her camp was in the protective nook of the Dragon's Backbone, but she went to them and made sure they were tethered in as sheltered a manner as possible. She patted them and spoke soothing words taught to her by her grandpa - words that were in no language, but that seemed to work on the camels.
Her eyes were trained heavenward at the now more active thing: objects flew forth as if a huge beast was vomiting up an unpleasant meal. But these were manmade things - or pieces of things. Trying to determine just what the wood had been part of was an effort that was soon abandoned as people began falling as well.
Sickening thuds and short-lived screams filled the usually quite desert night. The young woman wanted to rush forward to help, but the risk of being hit by falling debris - some of it quite large - made her wait. They would get no aid at all if their rescuer ended up smashed by a hunk of wood or a falling body. So she waited the few flickers until she was sure that the rain had ended.
There. Three figures lucky enough to land on what looked like a bolt of cloth. The tribeswoman's mind refused to believe that she had seen them floating on air. At least for now. These were the likeliest to have survived and might be in a good enough shape to help with the others, or to at least explain the incident to a confused Arigha.
"Are you people? Are you alive?"
She did not think, words just flew out of her mouth as she rushed forward.
"Where did you come from?"
She hung each question on a star, counting her way across the sky - as if the heavens might answer her.
And perhaps they did. For there was a new star. She had thought for a moment that her sense of direction was off, but no. A strange bluish light was in the sky and it was no familiar guide. In fact is was not a star - for it seemed to grow and pulse and come nearer to the earth. A fallen star? An answer from the spirits? Or was this some trick of the dragons or djinn? The light came from the sky, and the sands seemed to rise from the ground in answer. Such a wind drew up a whirling shape of sand, more quickly than any that Arigha had witnessed. She knew then that this was no natural event.
Her first instinct - her aunts would have been proud if not downright incredulous - was to tend to her animals. Her camp was in the protective nook of the Dragon's Backbone, but she went to them and made sure they were tethered in as sheltered a manner as possible. She patted them and spoke soothing words taught to her by her grandpa - words that were in no language, but that seemed to work on the camels.
Her eyes were trained heavenward at the now more active thing: objects flew forth as if a huge beast was vomiting up an unpleasant meal. But these were manmade things - or pieces of things. Trying to determine just what the wood had been part of was an effort that was soon abandoned as people began falling as well.
Sickening thuds and short-lived screams filled the usually quite desert night. The young woman wanted to rush forward to help, but the risk of being hit by falling debris - some of it quite large - made her wait. They would get no aid at all if their rescuer ended up smashed by a hunk of wood or a falling body. So she waited the few flickers until she was sure that the rain had ended.
There. Three figures lucky enough to land on what looked like a bolt of cloth. The tribeswoman's mind refused to believe that she had seen them floating on air. At least for now. These were the likeliest to have survived and might be in a good enough shape to help with the others, or to at least explain the incident to a confused Arigha.
"Are you people? Are you alive?"
She did not think, words just flew out of her mouth as she rushed forward.
"Where did you come from?"
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Guest
OOC: I'm not sure when we'll get posts for these guys so we'll move forward. Mav and Jack, please see my PMs (will send shortly) as to what I changed.
IC: The figures, two men and a woman, did not respond to Arigha's queries. Though they were alive they were unconscious and, as she peered even closer, she saw what might be a reason for the unresponsiveness for at least the men. Each of the men's hair was matted with blood and sand and splinters of wood stuck out at random. It appeared as if they'd been hit with something large and heavy almost simultaneously.
For now, they were alive, but they would need medical attention to survive. Neither head wound appeared as if it would heal naturally.
The woman was a different story. Though dressed strangely, Arigha recognized her as one of the People. Her skin was tanned and lined as only the desert can do. Here was one of her own yet the woman wore a bright red wetlander dress, ripped as it was, as if she were some high lady. There were no obvious injuries, but, of the three, she seemed the most serene and appeared almost dead.
IC: The figures, two men and a woman, did not respond to Arigha's queries. Though they were alive they were unconscious and, as she peered even closer, she saw what might be a reason for the unresponsiveness for at least the men. Each of the men's hair was matted with blood and sand and splinters of wood stuck out at random. It appeared as if they'd been hit with something large and heavy almost simultaneously.
For now, they were alive, but they would need medical attention to survive. Neither head wound appeared as if it would heal naturally.
The woman was a different story. Though dressed strangely, Arigha recognized her as one of the People. Her skin was tanned and lined as only the desert can do. Here was one of her own yet the woman wore a bright red wetlander dress, ripped as it was, as if she were some high lady. There were no obvious injuries, but, of the three, she seemed the most serene and appeared almost dead.
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Guest
Arigha was worried indeed. Wetlanders or not, they required a healer's attention. Arigha had no such training, and the nearest person she knew of was a far ride off.
The two men were in bad shape, their injuries obvious. The woman, whose dress made her all the more intriguing - a kindred spirit perhaps? - showed no obvious injury but was in the worst condition. Arigha went to her and gently placed a hand on her head to check for signs of fever and see if she even breathed.
Damn. Damn-damn. Why do the spirits drop such a horror upon me on my first night of freedom? Is this a sign?
"Lady? Can you speak?"
The two men were in bad shape, their injuries obvious. The woman, whose dress made her all the more intriguing - a kindred spirit perhaps? - showed no obvious injury but was in the worst condition. Arigha went to her and gently placed a hand on her head to check for signs of fever and see if she even breathed.
Damn. Damn-damn. Why do the spirits drop such a horror upon me on my first night of freedom? Is this a sign?
"Lady? Can you speak?"
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Guest
Though disheveled, the woman appeared peacefully asleep, breathing deep full breaths. Her skin was red but not due to fever. It was more like a burn. Arigha recognized it after a flicker. The woman's face and hands were almost raw. Sand burn.
Arigha knew about it. She had been warned about it as a child. All the People knew it. Sandstorms were one of the many dangers of the desert. The wind and sand could sap a travelers strength as easy as the sun or a staff and could blind as well. They were an obstacle only the most stalwart could overcome. Most sought shelter or avoided them altogether. Surely, a woman of the People would know this. Looking closer she noticed the skin of the lady's companions were raw as well. Whatever the woman had endured, the men had endured as well.
Despite the gentle touch, the lady did not respond. However, Arigha did feel a slight movement, almost as if something moved beneath the woman's dress. Yes, it moved again. Something, near the size of her palm and half as wide shifted slightly just below the unconscious woman's breasts.
OOC: Sounds like Jack will be back soon. Not sure about Amica and Mav.
Arigha knew about it. She had been warned about it as a child. All the People knew it. Sandstorms were one of the many dangers of the desert. The wind and sand could sap a travelers strength as easy as the sun or a staff and could blind as well. They were an obstacle only the most stalwart could overcome. Most sought shelter or avoided them altogether. Surely, a woman of the People would know this. Looking closer she noticed the skin of the lady's companions were raw as well. Whatever the woman had endured, the men had endured as well.
Despite the gentle touch, the lady did not respond. However, Arigha did feel a slight movement, almost as if something moved beneath the woman's dress. Yes, it moved again. Something, near the size of her palm and half as wide shifted slightly just below the unconscious woman's breasts.
OOC: Sounds like Jack will be back soon. Not sure about Amica and Mav.
Last edited by Guest on Thu Oct 05, 2006 5:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Guest
Sand burn. Should she cover the raw skin? Or would it be best to leave uncovered until it could be washed. With night coming on, that did not seema viable option.
If only we were closer-
Arigha was about to look around to see if there were materials to make some kind of bedding and covering from when she noticed the movement.
A wound? Some small animal in the woman's protection?
Very very carefully, the young woman tried to open the top of the dress to reveal what was beneath.
Forgive me lady...
If only we were closer-
Arigha was about to look around to see if there were materials to make some kind of bedding and covering from when she noticed the movement.
A wound? Some small animal in the woman's protection?
Very very carefully, the young woman tried to open the top of the dress to reveal what was beneath.
Forgive me lady...
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Jack Farrell
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It was a dry hacking more than a cough. Jack fought to clear his lungs. Breathing in the still desert air helped but he still fought to move his body. The hell he had just woken from was still fresh in his mind and he moved in fits when he could move at all. This was a whole new sense of lethargy - he felt like his body was not entirely his own or not entirely there.
He had been pretty torn up before that light, that blinding blinding light had swallowed him. Where was T'kill? Rezon? Amica? He looked around but his eyes didnt work properly. Mav had been right next to him only moments ago... Now he was alone, paralysed, his body a dull aching pain.
"Aeris." he whispered between shuddering breaths. She had killed him.
He had been pretty torn up before that light, that blinding blinding light had swallowed him. Where was T'kill? Rezon? Amica? He looked around but his eyes didnt work properly. Mav had been right next to him only moments ago... Now he was alone, paralysed, his body a dull aching pain.
"Aeris." he whispered between shuddering breaths. She had killed him.
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Guest
One of the men seemed to be waking. Perhaps he could explain just what had happened.
"You are in the desert at the Dragon's Backbone. You have survived a storm. I am trying to tend to the woman and will be with you next."
But if there was something feeding on or causing further injury to the woman of the people, Arigha meant to get rid of it before tending to any wetlanders.
"You are in the desert at the Dragon's Backbone. You have survived a storm. I am trying to tend to the woman and will be with you next."
But if there was something feeding on or causing further injury to the woman of the people, Arigha meant to get rid of it before tending to any wetlanders.
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Guest
The Dragon's Backbone was an easy landmark for the people, but it was sparsely populated with vegetation, especially the kind needed to treat wounds. Exposure would be the first thing to remedy. Under the moon, exposure would be less dangerous but as dawn approached, these people's skin would need to be protected.
Opening the young woman's blouse revealed a talisman unlike any Arigha had seen before. It was gray and twisted in something that looked vaguely of the People but it was contorted in a way that made the young wanderer feel . . . evil. The shamaness wore it like a necklace. It was clearly an ornament of some sort, though she hid it.
It was pointed slightly, as if made from a spearpoint and it was the point that seemed to causing the movement. It jerked rhythmically, not randomly. Indeed, it was more like an arrow, an arrow that pointed itself. It pointed west almost frantically.
Opening the young woman's blouse revealed a talisman unlike any Arigha had seen before. It was gray and twisted in something that looked vaguely of the People but it was contorted in a way that made the young wanderer feel . . . evil. The shamaness wore it like a necklace. It was clearly an ornament of some sort, though she hid it.
It was pointed slightly, as if made from a spearpoint and it was the point that seemed to causing the movement. It jerked rhythmically, not randomly. Indeed, it was more like an arrow, an arrow that pointed itself. It pointed west almost frantically.
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Jack Farrell
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The woman...
"Amica." Jack rasped the words from his lips. Jack was scared, he could not really see anything but darkness and feared that he was blind. He could hardly move and his head was a swirling knot of pain. He had seen better days. He sank back into the sand, trying to calm and slow his breathing. "Get help." he breathed out into the night air.
"Amica." Jack rasped the words from his lips. Jack was scared, he could not really see anything but darkness and feared that he was blind. He could hardly move and his head was a swirling knot of pain. He had seen better days. He sank back into the sand, trying to calm and slow his breathing. "Get help." he breathed out into the night air.
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Guest
The amulet was confusing… was it some blasphemy? Or a tool of the black robes? Perhaps it was causing the woman further injury… Arigha used a piece of cloth to remove the amulet and fling it to the stones nearby. If it were harmless, she could pick it up later, but it looked too suspicious at the moment.
Next she gathered fabric from the bolts that had fallen from the sky. She attempted to bundle it as insulation to protect the bodies of these few survivors. All the while she turned her eyes from the remains of those who had not been so fortunate.
She then went to the man who had wakened enough to speak.
“What is Amica? Where did you come from? I will try to find covering for you. Can you move your limbs at all, man?â€
She used precious water to moisten a cloth to wipe the man’s face in as gentle a manner as possible.
Next she gathered fabric from the bolts that had fallen from the sky. She attempted to bundle it as insulation to protect the bodies of these few survivors. All the while she turned her eyes from the remains of those who had not been so fortunate.
She then went to the man who had wakened enough to speak.
“What is Amica? Where did you come from? I will try to find covering for you. Can you move your limbs at all, man?â€
She used precious water to moisten a cloth to wipe the man’s face in as gentle a manner as possible.
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Jack Farrell
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Jack tried to laugh, he was not sure why but something about this was comical to him. To come from certain death to a girl tending him and his was a release above all he could have hoped for. He coughed, wracking his ribs with waves of pain.
"Amica is the womans name," he breathed out. He tried to roll to his side, but the effort was too great and he supposed he might have broken a rib or two.
"I think im hurt." He smiled as he spoke.
"Amica is the womans name," he breathed out. He tried to roll to his side, but the effort was too great and he supposed he might have broken a rib or two.
"I think im hurt." He smiled as he spoke.
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“This is bad. I – I am no healer. The nearest village is several marks ride…â€
A deep crease showed on her forehead. Oddly enough, she did not fell the least urge to cry. It was odd because that was the reaction she would have expected of herself – or any other young girl.
“You can talk, at least, so perhaps it is not as bad as I thought… Is this Amica a… a witch of some sort?â€
The twitching of the amulet was eerie. But watching it would not solve any of her problems.
“Where did you come from? Are there others nearby that could help? You do know where we are – right?â€
A deep crease showed on her forehead. Oddly enough, she did not fell the least urge to cry. It was odd because that was the reaction she would have expected of herself – or any other young girl.
“You can talk, at least, so perhaps it is not as bad as I thought… Is this Amica a… a witch of some sort?â€
The twitching of the amulet was eerie. But watching it would not solve any of her problems.
“Where did you come from? Are there others nearby that could help? You do know where we are – right?â€
The amulet initially seemed to resist Arigha's grasp, wriggling out of the cloth and trying to cleave to Amica's breast, but once she managed to get a firm grip on it the talisman proved less troublesome, ceasing its twitching and jerking and finally lying still in the sand.
Above them, in the sky, the whirling blue disc coughed out one last victim - a young man in military uniform, who fell heavily onto the rocks above - and then contracted to a point, winking out of existence.
Jack's supposition was very, very correct. He was hurt, and badly. His awareness of the pain he was in intensified with every moment as he returned to full consciousness.
The desert around the Backbone was more or less flat as far as the eye could see, and the bright gateway had been an impressive sight. The attention of more than one village had likely been drawn by this bizarre phenomenon, which meant that someone would probably already be making their way out to investigate. Of course, the attention of less well-meaning creatures had also been drawn. Now that the sand had settled, three miniature maelstroms of sand and air, weaving their way towards the outcrop, made their appearance on the periphery of Arigha's vision.
Above them, in the sky, the whirling blue disc coughed out one last victim - a young man in military uniform, who fell heavily onto the rocks above - and then contracted to a point, winking out of existence.
Jack's supposition was very, very correct. He was hurt, and badly. His awareness of the pain he was in intensified with every moment as he returned to full consciousness.
The desert around the Backbone was more or less flat as far as the eye could see, and the bright gateway had been an impressive sight. The attention of more than one village had likely been drawn by this bizarre phenomenon, which meant that someone would probably already be making their way out to investigate. Of course, the attention of less well-meaning creatures had also been drawn. Now that the sand had settled, three miniature maelstroms of sand and air, weaving their way towards the outcrop, made their appearance on the periphery of Arigha's vision.
[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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Jack Farrell
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"I was on a ship." He breathed out. "A ship in the sky... it got eaten." He smiled, teeth pink with blood. His fight with Luis and Aeris' attack had bruised and battered him, thrown against the decking like a ragdoll - but that was nothing to what he felt now. T'kill had some owning up to do.
"Amica... the girl, so small and so alive." Jack tried to roll his head to look at her but the light was too poor or his eyes to damaged to make her out. "I tried to help." Jack's eyes closed, being awake was too painfull. He felt a dull ache in his legs that slowly woke into a wrenching pain, he landed badly at least. The blow to his head must have been caused by whatever followed him out of the portal. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, he was not thinking clearly. He could only see the last moments of the deck, skin whipped raw by sandstorm, flesh torn by splintered wood. To be so helpless as he held the ship's wheel, impotent as Aeris ravaged the crew.
"I will end you." His lips mouthed the words, cracking like parchment.
"Amica... the girl, so small and so alive." Jack tried to roll his head to look at her but the light was too poor or his eyes to damaged to make her out. "I tried to help." Jack's eyes closed, being awake was too painfull. He felt a dull ache in his legs that slowly woke into a wrenching pain, he landed badly at least. The blow to his head must have been caused by whatever followed him out of the portal. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, he was not thinking clearly. He could only see the last moments of the deck, skin whipped raw by sandstorm, flesh torn by splintered wood. To be so helpless as he held the ship's wheel, impotent as Aeris ravaged the crew.
"I will end you." His lips mouthed the words, cracking like parchment.
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A ship. Arigha knew what that was… in a vague way. She’d never seen one, but she knew that they traveled on water not in the sky. Yet these people had fallen from above. If the man was speaking madness, there was a good chance that Arigha herself was going mad.
The girl’s gaze went once more to the amulet. Magick. Though it was still now, the unnatural squirming had been unmistakable. The movement that caught her eye now was perhaps of more concern. Sandclouds in the distant, perhaps some of the people coming to see what had fallen from the sky. Perhaps some desert beast looking for a meal.
Of course, given the location and the body count, as well as the appearance of the bright light in the sky… djinn.
The anddi-sus shuddered for a moment. Fear mingled with a strange hint of delight. For had she not wished for a less ordinary and more adventurous life?
She began to pray. Or it might be called a prayer, her odd manner of humming to what she interpreted as the spirit of the Backbone. The dragon that she had imagined listened to her when she was much younger. The one that she imagined as audience for her experimental dances and who she believed had listened to her little tunes of woe. As she had grown older, she had convinced herself that there wasn’t really a dragon spirit. But it comforted her to think that something listened to her problems and her dreams. It made her feel less alone, less frightened. And if it were djinn that approached, she would need a clear head to deal with them. No girlish panic.
So she hummed her old tune to the rock and the wind and the sand that made up this place. And she tended the young man as best she could. And she waited to see whether trouble or help or one disguised as the other approached.
The girl’s gaze went once more to the amulet. Magick. Though it was still now, the unnatural squirming had been unmistakable. The movement that caught her eye now was perhaps of more concern. Sandclouds in the distant, perhaps some of the people coming to see what had fallen from the sky. Perhaps some desert beast looking for a meal.
Of course, given the location and the body count, as well as the appearance of the bright light in the sky… djinn.
The anddi-sus shuddered for a moment. Fear mingled with a strange hint of delight. For had she not wished for a less ordinary and more adventurous life?
She began to pray. Or it might be called a prayer, her odd manner of humming to what she interpreted as the spirit of the Backbone. The dragon that she had imagined listened to her when she was much younger. The one that she imagined as audience for her experimental dances and who she believed had listened to her little tunes of woe. As she had grown older, she had convinced herself that there wasn’t really a dragon spirit. But it comforted her to think that something listened to her problems and her dreams. It made her feel less alone, less frightened. And if it were djinn that approached, she would need a clear head to deal with them. No girlish panic.
So she hummed her old tune to the rock and the wind and the sand that made up this place. And she tended the young man as best she could. And she waited to see whether trouble or help or one disguised as the other approached.
To anyone not born in the Sands, the dust devils weaving their way toward the outcrop would have seemed just that: harmless, aimless natural phenomena. Fortunately, Arigha had been raised among the People, who fed their young ones stories of the desert's malevolent spirits while they were still at their mothers' teats. Among the People the djinn were a very real threat, and if they were more often encountered in tall tales than in reality this was only because the horrors reported truly were the stuff from which legends are made.
Thus forewarned, Arigha, with a clear head, was able to discern the hideously single-minded intent that underlay the seemingly arbitrary deviations, dalliances and oscillations of the approaching dustclouds. The djinn - for there was no doubt now that that was what they were - were making a beeline straight for the ridge where Arigha sat surrounded by dead and wounded.
She didn't have long to consider her options, though. A hoarse cry from one of the larger piles of bodies tore Arigha from her thoughts and Jack from his pain.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" The screech was not a sound of pure pain, though there was certainly pain involved. It was more indicative of furious, impotent frustration. "She is not here!"
The voice emanated from a body clad all in black. Arigha would immediately recognise the source of the voice as a shaman of the People... and Jack would immediately recognise the voice itself as that of T'kil.
Thus forewarned, Arigha, with a clear head, was able to discern the hideously single-minded intent that underlay the seemingly arbitrary deviations, dalliances and oscillations of the approaching dustclouds. The djinn - for there was no doubt now that that was what they were - were making a beeline straight for the ridge where Arigha sat surrounded by dead and wounded.
She didn't have long to consider her options, though. A hoarse cry from one of the larger piles of bodies tore Arigha from her thoughts and Jack from his pain.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" The screech was not a sound of pure pain, though there was certainly pain involved. It was more indicative of furious, impotent frustration. "She is not here!"
The voice emanated from a body clad all in black. Arigha would immediately recognise the source of the voice as a shaman of the People... and Jack would immediately recognise the voice itself as that of T'kil.
[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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Jack Farrell
- Civus
- Posts: 296
- Joined: Sun May 22, 2005 1:05 pm
- Location: Citadel
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Dancing in the edge of a coma, Jack's eyes snapped open. The voice brought him out of what could easily have been mistaken for a dream and into painful reality.
"T''Kil!" Jack coughed the word out, tasting a little blood as he did so. "Shaman!" He called out all the harder, trying to make himself heard. "You will have to try harder than that to kill me."
Jack could have laughed. He knew that T'kil's quick thinking had been all that had saved him from a quick death by Aeris's tender clutches. Jack was however left with the impression that the shaman could have conducted his business with a little more finess.
"T''Kil!" Jack coughed the word out, tasting a little blood as he did so. "Shaman!" He called out all the harder, trying to make himself heard. "You will have to try harder than that to kill me."
Jack could have laughed. He knew that T'kil's quick thinking had been all that had saved him from a quick death by Aeris's tender clutches. Jack was however left with the impression that the shaman could have conducted his business with a little more finess.
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Guest
Things were going from bad to worse. A shaman. Respect warred with fear within Arigha. She was too much a nonconformist to be simply relieved at the presence of one who might have some defense against the djinn. The Black robes were to be obeyed, but even better to avoid them altogether. Worse, this one seemed to be an enemy of the man to whom she was tending.
Of course, since the shaman - T’Kil? – had been seemingly dead only flickers before, there was an even more disturbing possibility. That the djinn had already reached the corpse and were “riding†the dead. This thought set the woman’s heart pounding and caused her to hold her breath in anticipation. Then instinct kicked in: no one was going to protect her. She had to get away. These people were probably dying anyway, so why should she risk being driven insane by djinn to protect their corpses.
“Hush-sh,†she whispered to Jack, “The djinn come.â€
She struggled to use the fabric beneath him to move him closer to the partial protection of the Backbone.
“Did the T’Kil… did he kill all of these people?â€
Of course, since the shaman - T’Kil? – had been seemingly dead only flickers before, there was an even more disturbing possibility. That the djinn had already reached the corpse and were “riding†the dead. This thought set the woman’s heart pounding and caused her to hold her breath in anticipation. Then instinct kicked in: no one was going to protect her. She had to get away. These people were probably dying anyway, so why should she risk being driven insane by djinn to protect their corpses.
“Hush-sh,†she whispered to Jack, “The djinn come.â€
She struggled to use the fabric beneath him to move him closer to the partial protection of the Backbone.
“Did the T’Kil… did he kill all of these people?â€
The shaman coughed and spat out a thick mass of dark blood and sand. Jack had said something, and that meant he was still alive. If he was grateful for this, though, T'kil showed no sign of it in his response. "Foolish guarrdi," he growled.
The shaman's right legs was trapped under a medley of bodies, and he tried to work it free, but this action caused him to wince and clutch to his chest as an invisible pain ran through him. His lower left arm also looked broken, angled where it should have been straight and with a visible wet patch on the sleeve of his coat.
(OOC: Maverick may be rejoining us shortly, everyone!
)
The shaman's right legs was trapped under a medley of bodies, and he tried to work it free, but this action caused him to wince and clutch to his chest as an invisible pain ran through him. His lower left arm also looked broken, angled where it should have been straight and with a visible wet patch on the sleeve of his coat.
(OOC: Maverick may be rejoining us shortly, everyone!
)
Last edited by Morg on Sun Nov 12, 2006 10:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[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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Jack Farrell
- Civus
- Posts: 296
- Joined: Sun May 22, 2005 1:05 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Jack winced. Djinn...
"T'kil saved us. In his own way..." Jack started breathing, hyper ventilating to fill his lungs. He knew this was going to hurt.
Firstly he relaxed, and tried to acertain whether his arms were injured. If he had then this was going to be a fruitless exercise. He knew he had damaged at least one rib and thus could not exert pressure on his abdomen. This would make standing a challenge.
"Help me." Jack asked of the girl kneeling above him. "I need to stand."
Blocking his mind to the pain and summoning reserves that simply were not there. Jack tried to climb to his feet.
"T'kil saved us. In his own way..." Jack started breathing, hyper ventilating to fill his lungs. He knew this was going to hurt.
Firstly he relaxed, and tried to acertain whether his arms were injured. If he had then this was going to be a fruitless exercise. He knew he had damaged at least one rib and thus could not exert pressure on his abdomen. This would make standing a challenge.
"Help me." Jack asked of the girl kneeling above him. "I need to stand."
Blocking his mind to the pain and summoning reserves that simply were not there. Jack tried to climb to his feet.
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Guest
Arigha fought the urge to leave both men and run for cover. She was not certain why she did so. Was it not best to survive? But these people needed help. And she would need help herself - especially if the djinn came for her as well.
"T'Kil," she called to the wounded shaman, "Nigri. The djinn smell blood and come for us. I see three clouds."
If this one had power to hurl "ships" into the sky, the djinn might not be such a threat.
"Guarrdi, you are in no shape to stand. But I will try, for it is best to face danger on your feet."
"T'Kil," she called to the wounded shaman, "Nigri. The djinn smell blood and come for us. I see three clouds."
If this one had power to hurl "ships" into the sky, the djinn might not be such a threat.
"Guarrdi, you are in no shape to stand. But I will try, for it is best to face danger on your feet."
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Guest
Maverick coughed. There was sand in his throat. His chest hurried with the movement, his belly contracting causing his muscles to protest most painfully. He opened his sandcaked eyes, wondering what the Nether looked like. Voices came from far away but still not very clear. He moved his legs experimentally and stopped when the compass proved to be still there, crunching his privates with every movement. Ouch. "Cafones" Maverick muttered, croaking like a frog, his voice not obeying him "Vaffanculo! We are not meant to fly. Next time.. we'll take a camel."
Jack's body did not respond kindly to the pressure he was exerting on it. As he'd surmised, at least one rib was broken - maybe two, or even three. Miraculously, his arms seemed to be intact, but the same could not be said of his legs. His right was able to support him, but something was definitely awry with his left. Putting weight on it caused a lance of pain to shoot up his body. Nevertheless, with Arigha's help he managed to work himself into something approximating to a standing position. It was unclear how to proceed from there, though.
As well as a freely bleeding head wound that caused blood to spill down and mix with the sand in his eyes, Maverick seemed to have the opposite injuries to Jack. While he could move his legs freely, both his arms were injured, the right dislocated at the shoulder and the left broken in the forearm. Aside from some heavy bruising, nothing seemed too drastically wrong with his torso, either.
With a rattling cry of pain, T'kil finally freed himself from the heap of bodies and stood, cradling his left arm uncomfortably in his right. He limped towards Arigha, his right foot dragging. "Djinn? Cruk-shika!" he cursed. "I have little strength remaining to me... I cannot yet protect all of us. You must be strong - all of you! They cannot enter you if you refuse them." Of course, since the Peshawgo's absence from the cisterns T'kil had heard reports of djinn strong enough to do just that - but he wasn't going to burden the wounded with doubts that might damage the confidence they'd need to resist. Instead he let his wounded arm fall to his side. Producing a short, curved knife, he moved painfully over to the nearest body still twitching, that of a man in Condotierre uniform. With a swift movement he tipped its head upwards and drew a jagged line across its throat. Blood gushed out, and after a few flickers the body was still.
"Girl, you must help me!" he called to Arigha. "We must deprive the creatures of hosts. Whatever you may have heard, the djinn cannot ride the bodies of the dead. We must finish those too weak to resist!" so saying, he shuffled over toward the next sign of movement. "As for the rest of you... keep a clear head."
The dustcloud beings were approaching the foot of the ridge now, and would be upon them within the burn.
As well as a freely bleeding head wound that caused blood to spill down and mix with the sand in his eyes, Maverick seemed to have the opposite injuries to Jack. While he could move his legs freely, both his arms were injured, the right dislocated at the shoulder and the left broken in the forearm. Aside from some heavy bruising, nothing seemed too drastically wrong with his torso, either.
With a rattling cry of pain, T'kil finally freed himself from the heap of bodies and stood, cradling his left arm uncomfortably in his right. He limped towards Arigha, his right foot dragging. "Djinn? Cruk-shika!" he cursed. "I have little strength remaining to me... I cannot yet protect all of us. You must be strong - all of you! They cannot enter you if you refuse them." Of course, since the Peshawgo's absence from the cisterns T'kil had heard reports of djinn strong enough to do just that - but he wasn't going to burden the wounded with doubts that might damage the confidence they'd need to resist. Instead he let his wounded arm fall to his side. Producing a short, curved knife, he moved painfully over to the nearest body still twitching, that of a man in Condotierre uniform. With a swift movement he tipped its head upwards and drew a jagged line across its throat. Blood gushed out, and after a few flickers the body was still.
"Girl, you must help me!" he called to Arigha. "We must deprive the creatures of hosts. Whatever you may have heard, the djinn cannot ride the bodies of the dead. We must finish those too weak to resist!" so saying, he shuffled over toward the next sign of movement. "As for the rest of you... keep a clear head."
The dustcloud beings were approaching the foot of the ridge now, and would be upon them within the burn.
[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]