Tuesday, December 06, 2011

A tale of Carinthis part 1

The streets of Carinthis were wild and chaotic.  Full of colors in designs that seemed to move constantly. It was as if the city made and unmade itself every moment, which of course it did.  It sat as a crown high atop a pillar of stone which rose out of the desert.  A bazaar of tented streets pierced by six high towers and one low, wind blown against a sky that did not seem to want it.

Reglin was veiled and short but seemed tall and lethe against the throngs of Cazzit which called the city home.  They were a desert race short and stunted their skin almost scaled to fight the wind and sand.  The Green was a head taller than the dwarves, supple skinned and elegant.  His voice was song even though he tried to drive melody from his voice.  He moved with watching eyes to each stall seeking.

He was looking for work or somewhere he could hold up unseen.  He had been hunted most of his life though just as often was the hunter.  His people warred openly with the beastly race that shared their forests.  Now he was hunted by his own.  for Reglin had grown old, nearly twenty five, and wished to live a little more. 

It was common desire but not one allowed by the Green people. Their rites sought rebirth at this time and all would find it, desired or not.  Reglin had not been the first to flee his people, many had tried.  Few made it this far from their territory, perhaps far enough to begin to hope.

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