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[5E] The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter One
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 7342436" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p><strong>Annit: Idle Fingers</strong></p><p></p><p>The sun would soon rise. </p><p></p><p><em>Best make the most of the pre-dawn shade. </em></p><p></p><p>The congregation had been growing in size steadily during the course of the night. From Viro, Cillat, the swamplands, plains, forests and mountains they came, a people united.</p><p></p><p>Upon green fields and gardens beneath the great tower’s looming black form, a stew was brewing. A cultural melting pot. All walks of Kalarian life were represented, from the grubby-kneed offspring of farmers and tradespeople, through to short and stout packs of hillstribe warriors. Nobody would be turned away, this was their right, to lay witness to a year’s most important ritual. Naming.</p><p></p><p>Now some may have thought this tradition nothing other than mere superstition. Others considered it entertainment, or a rare chance to mingle with friends from distant places on this wild Marix isle. Whatever your view, wherever your home or allegiance, this was the day never to miss.</p><p></p><p>Picnic blankets and food were shared with strangers. Children would frolic and make new friends. A young man might blush as a beauty walked past his way. A couple might whisper, discussing the aroma of their neighbor's breakfast. They were half-orcs on their left, right?</p><p></p><p>On the surface this was a peaceful land. An exemplary example of forgiveness, equal opportunity, harmony and respect. But the skin was aging and turning frail. Something dark was moving through society’s veins.</p><p></p><p>The wise understood. Dolstian Law had been a means to an end. A way of halting bloody rebellion and a magic-armed citizenship bent on overthrowing the powerful, greedy and cunning. Those treacherous few, the exploiters, had seen their end. Many years had passed since then.</p><p></p><p>The wiser still, or those who simply opened their eyes with acceptance of the truth, knew something else. Pretenders walked the lands. The gifted hid their arts both divine and arcane. There was an undercurrent of magic, secrecy and oppression. The laws which served to create equality had disempowered the strong and weak alike. People couldn’t be comfortable showing who they truly were. It had worked at first, but now things seemed mostly pretend. “It will only be a matter of time,” a soothsayer once said, in private of course. Getting hung wasn’t a particularly pleasurable way to go.</p><p></p><p>A young woman barely past her teens, Annit, knew there was something more. Wealth and magic were perpetual in her dreams… and nightmares. Lets just say her childhood hadn’t exactly been scrupulous or well planned. With every sentence came an aftereffect, and she was one of the ones left behind.</p><p></p><p>What better then, than to use this township’s customs to her own advantage. The irony was beautiful in her mind. Half-dark. People everywhere. A host of distractions in the form of dancing, puppeteers, traders peddling wares, or simply the appearance of some of these folk. Damn, gnomes too. They usually got a good eyeballing.</p><p></p><p>As she brushed past a family of fellow humans, sat there chatting and laughing, she tripped on the corner of their cloth. A simple man, woman and little boy stared at her as she tumbled, her skirt collecting a fair grass-stain in the process.</p><p></p><p>“Are you alright dear?” There was something in the mother’s eyes that reflected knowing. Damn, she was suspicious. That fall seemed just a touch too dramatic, orchestrated even.</p><p></p><p>It didn’t deter Annit though, as she rose and steadied herself, she brushed a hand against this kind woman’s side, subtle fingers quickly dipping into a blouse-pocket.</p><p></p><p><em>Oh!</em></p><p></p><p>Hard. Cold. Sharp edged. She knew this touch well. How sweet the fruits of the earth!</p><p></p><p>“Hey! Filthy thief, get your grubby mit outta me top!”</p><p></p><p>Annit’s hand quickly snapped back away from the treasure. She leaned forward and whispered to her ear, “be quiet, I know what that is, imagine what would become of your sweet family were I to call out what you have right there. Let’s deal. Give it to me.”</p><p></p><p><Annit deception check = 8, sleight of hand check = 8, both witnessed by the woman’s passive perception. Opps.></p><p></p><p>To be continued...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 7342436, member: 6799460"] [b]Annit: Idle Fingers[/b] The sun would soon rise. [I]Best make the most of the pre-dawn shade. [/I] The congregation had been growing in size steadily during the course of the night. From Viro, Cillat, the swamplands, plains, forests and mountains they came, a people united. Upon green fields and gardens beneath the great tower’s looming black form, a stew was brewing. A cultural melting pot. All walks of Kalarian life were represented, from the grubby-kneed offspring of farmers and tradespeople, through to short and stout packs of hillstribe warriors. Nobody would be turned away, this was their right, to lay witness to a year’s most important ritual. Naming. Now some may have thought this tradition nothing other than mere superstition. Others considered it entertainment, or a rare chance to mingle with friends from distant places on this wild Marix isle. Whatever your view, wherever your home or allegiance, this was the day never to miss. Picnic blankets and food were shared with strangers. Children would frolic and make new friends. A young man might blush as a beauty walked past his way. A couple might whisper, discussing the aroma of their neighbor's breakfast. They were half-orcs on their left, right? On the surface this was a peaceful land. An exemplary example of forgiveness, equal opportunity, harmony and respect. But the skin was aging and turning frail. Something dark was moving through society’s veins. The wise understood. Dolstian Law had been a means to an end. A way of halting bloody rebellion and a magic-armed citizenship bent on overthrowing the powerful, greedy and cunning. Those treacherous few, the exploiters, had seen their end. Many years had passed since then. The wiser still, or those who simply opened their eyes with acceptance of the truth, knew something else. Pretenders walked the lands. The gifted hid their arts both divine and arcane. There was an undercurrent of magic, secrecy and oppression. The laws which served to create equality had disempowered the strong and weak alike. People couldn’t be comfortable showing who they truly were. It had worked at first, but now things seemed mostly pretend. “It will only be a matter of time,” a soothsayer once said, in private of course. Getting hung wasn’t a particularly pleasurable way to go. A young woman barely past her teens, Annit, knew there was something more. Wealth and magic were perpetual in her dreams… and nightmares. Lets just say her childhood hadn’t exactly been scrupulous or well planned. With every sentence came an aftereffect, and she was one of the ones left behind. What better then, than to use this township’s customs to her own advantage. The irony was beautiful in her mind. Half-dark. People everywhere. A host of distractions in the form of dancing, puppeteers, traders peddling wares, or simply the appearance of some of these folk. Damn, gnomes too. They usually got a good eyeballing. As she brushed past a family of fellow humans, sat there chatting and laughing, she tripped on the corner of their cloth. A simple man, woman and little boy stared at her as she tumbled, her skirt collecting a fair grass-stain in the process. “Are you alright dear?” There was something in the mother’s eyes that reflected knowing. Damn, she was suspicious. That fall seemed just a touch too dramatic, orchestrated even. It didn’t deter Annit though, as she rose and steadied herself, she brushed a hand against this kind woman’s side, subtle fingers quickly dipping into a blouse-pocket. [I]Oh![/I] Hard. Cold. Sharp edged. She knew this touch well. How sweet the fruits of the earth! “Hey! Filthy thief, get your grubby mit outta me top!” Annit’s hand quickly snapped back away from the treasure. She leaned forward and whispered to her ear, “be quiet, I know what that is, imagine what would become of your sweet family were I to call out what you have right there. Let’s deal. Give it to me.” <Annit deception check = 8, sleight of hand check = 8, both witnessed by the woman’s passive perception. Opps.> To be continued... [/QUOTE]
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