The Crafter of Zora

Moderators: The Soothsayer, Lanist, Xaphon Zessen

Locked
fenerismoon
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Aug 23, 2008 1:47 am

The Crafter of Zora

Post by fenerismoon »

Edit: I've rewritten this in first person...

The campfire crackled in the pit. The songs of izam filling the still jungle air, and the grunting of a nearby herd of mektoub were the only sounds.

I stared through the holes in my mask at the pot of amber bubbling on the campfire. The pot was made of carved kitin shell and was coated with koorin oil, to prevent the amber from burning and sticking.

The herd of mektoubs suddenly stirred. The young sucklings and weenlings running around in a panic, and the older ones scrampling to get away from something. My eyes darted over to the heard; on the lookout for predators. ragus were a constant threat to both wild and tamed mektoub herds in the region, and could be very cunning predators when they need to. Some of the larger javings would even forgo their usual meals of yubo's and Izam, and try to kill a young mektoub.

It was nether of the things however, merely a dispute with about the leadership of the herd. Two bulls suddenly let out loud bellows and reared up on their hind legs. They each seized the other's forearm and began to wrestle with each other, nether willing to submit to the other.

I sighed. Without looking back I reached behind, flipped open one of the pockets of my pack, and withdrew a pair of tongs. "Should be just about done..." I muttered to myself as I fished around in the pot, before removing a yubo eyeball from the amber soup.

I picked up the item I was currently working on, a pendant made of Silvio seeds, and carefully fitted the eye into the socket carved in the seeds. I normally didn't use whole eyeballs for my jewelery, people didn't like their earings staring at them, but rather used only the iris, cornea, or lens. However, the crafting festival would be held in Zora in a few weeks, with crafters from all over the Cities of Intuition, the jungle tribes, and even those from outside the jungle showing up, and I wanted to do something original.

I set the pendant aside to let the amber glaze on the eye cool. I then picked up the pot of amber and poured in into a phial, which I too set aside to cool.

*Snap*

I spun around at the sound. My hand reaching over and grabbing the korvan sword that lay by my side. Not a javing, no characteristic wing beats. Not a ragus, they were more careful. A bandit maybe?"

"Show yourself!" I barked.

From the shadows, a homin stepped forward. She was matis, with long orange-brown hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Her hair was matted with dirt, twigs, and bits of leaves. Her clothes were dirty, frayed, and ripped in spots; they looked like they had once been of very high quality.

"Excuse me?" she stammered, her eyes never leaving the sword. "Where am I?"

"About an hour or two away from the front gates of Zora," I answered. "I am just returning from a forging trip."

"What's Zora?" she asked, confusion screwing up her face. "And why are you wearing that strange mask?"

"I'm a zorai." I answered, lowering the sword slightly. She must have been suffering from one of those metal sicknesses with no cure, I decided. Even the most primitive tribes knew what Zora was. "We have these masks grafted onto our faces. Zora is our capital city."

"What's a Zorai?"

I was so surprised, I dropped my sword

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
So how was this first chapter? I would apreicate any constructive critisism, and to be informed if I unknowingly violate lore.
Last edited by fenerismoon on Thu Sep 11, 2008 6:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
sidusar
Posts: 1331
Joined: Tue Dec 21, 2004 4:38 am

Re: The Crafter of Zora

Post by sidusar »

A fun little story, :) but I must say I preferred it in the third person.

Unless it's written in an autobiographic style, first person always seems creepy to me. :o
fenerismoon
Posts: 52
Joined: Sat Aug 23, 2008 1:47 am

Re: The Crafter of Zora

Post by fenerismoon »

I was almost certain she was insane now.

"We are the dark-skinned, masked people that live in these jungles." I answered her question. Never before had I needed to describe what a Zorai was; everyone knew. "What are doing wandering in the jungle anyway?" I asked.

"I... don't remember..." she answered, her face scrunching up in confusion. "I just woke up here..."

"Can you tell me your name?" I requested, as I sheathed my sword. I was no healer, but I had a good idea what was wrong with her.

"I... don't know..." Worry was starting to show on her face, as she began to comprehend the gaps in her memory.

She was suffering from amnesia, once called Karavan sickness by superstitious zorai. Basically, a lose of memory due to physical or mental trauma. Unfortunately, I had no clue on how to treat it.

"It would be unwise to leave someone wandering around the jungle alone," I said, getting up. "I can take you to Zora, if you wish." There was a sudden crack of lighting across the sky, and thunder boomed through the bark-hollows. "And we better leave quick if we want to escape the rain..."

I quickly doused my fire with a thick blanket of mektoub hide that had been made for that purpose. One had to be very careful with fire, lest it spread. Especially when the entire planet was made mostly of flammable materials.

"Do you mind helping me pack up?" I asked her, gesturing to my packs, and the materials strewn about.

"No at all," she answered and walked over to me, and began putting things away.

Lighting flashed across the sky again, yet no rain fell.

Lighting, is considered the patron element of the Zorai. In the old Zorai stories, lighting is the parent of fire, and one of the strongest and un-tamable of the elements.

An even older legend states, that when lighting flashes across the sky, yet no rain falls, that fortune should favor the Zorai who witness it, and their lives will never been the same.

I don't know if it was coincidence or not. But my life was never the same after that.
_______________________________________
Okay... how was this chapter... hope that blurb at the end wasn't too confusing.
To Jena goes my prayers, to Ma-Duk goes my hope, to the truth goes my soul.

~Chronicler of the Pyr Militia~
I'm the guy who decides whether or not that incident with the yubo, the suit of medium armor, and the twenty six shots of stinga rum, belongs in the guild chronicles.
Locked

Return to “Through a Homin’s Eyes”