Kindred

Archaaz · 7th September 2008, 05:31

Ralla tore through the crowded streets of Tindrem, weaving frantically in and out of the pedestrian traffic and gradually widening the gap that separated her from her pursuers. Behind her, several members of the city guard struggled to catch up to her, though none could match the length and power of her strides. Whatever she may have lacked by way of agility was more than compensated by a rather prodigious strength and an unflagging endurance- both gifts of the orcan half of her lineage.

Even with the blood of fear and panic pumping madly through her veins she was unable to stifle a certain undeniable delight and exhilaration at the spectacle of the whole affair. Capture would, at the very least, entail the loss of her newly acquired merchandise, as well as an enthusiastic beating at the hands of the guards. At worst, she supposed, they might even kill her. Nevertheless, she felt her mouth twist into a uncontrollable grin of pure, wild-eyed excitement.

A childhood of vagrancy and petty larceny had afforded her a thorough understanding of the city’s mazelike assortment of narrow streets and twisting alleyways, knowledge she was able to put to great use leading the guards on a grand and confusing tour of one the city’s seedier districts, before finally eluding them and secreting herself behind an opportune stack of barrels.

After many minutes, Ralla cautiously peeked out from her hiding place to determine her situation. When she had assured herself of her escape, she stepped from behind the barrels and examined her ill-gotten wealth. She had managed to snatch a coin purse from the surprised hand of a careless noblewoman, an event which directly brought about her subsequent flight from the gendarmes. Wasting no time, she opened the small pouch and greedily shook its contents into her palm. Two gold coins. Not a fortune by any means, but more than enough to feed her for a few days. Rejoicing at both her escape and her newfound prosperity, she secured the purse about her person and set off in the direction of the docks, her favorite part of the city.

Fear of an unexpected reunion with the guards caused her to choose her way cautiously. Sticking to a carefully selected path of back streets and secluded alleys brought her at last to Tindrem’s bustling market; a sprawling conglomeration of shops and stalls located on the city’s wharf. Stopping just long enough to purchase a stale loaf of bread, a few dried fish, and a bottle of cheap wine, she continued out to the end of the farthest dock. The merchant who had sold her the goods had done so only reluctantly. One look at Ralla’s half-orcan features caused the man’s face to wrinkle in disgust. But hard times often proved a convenient cure for prejudice, and the man nonetheless relieved her of her money, returning the change and handing over her purchases.

Positioning herself on the edge of the dock, Ralla set about enjoying her ample, if somewhat uninspiring, dinner and watching the comings and goings of the mighty sailing vessels. The wine slowly began to take hold, lulling her into a dreamlike state of warm nostalgia. Strange that a mere few sips of rotgut wine should so utterly transform a life of hardship and injustice, imbuing it with a certain rosy wistfulness- a blanket of forgetfulness with which to smother life’s more unpleasant aspects. And yet, in Ralla, this very forgetfulness was already manifest, the wine merely enhanced the sensation. She was a creature of the here and now. For her, the future was but the very faintest of outlines, extending some mere few days; the past, nothing more than a hazy, intangible fog of half-remembered impressions. Like her great strength and stamina, this attachment to the present was a gift of her orcan blood. It might be said that, for Ralla, life spread out like the very ocean she so loved, with the highlights- the pleasurable parts- cresting as waves upon the surface; the tragic buried several fathoms deep.

Imagining herself on one of the passing caravels, soothed by the hypnotic regularity of the crashing of the waves, Ralla drifted off into a restful, wine-induced slumber.

KroqGar · 7th September 2008, 11:09

Really nicely done story. I really enjoyed the simple aspect of the whole thing, and it could easily be taken farther with the character presented. I think the inflection aspect was a little underdeveloped, but overall, it doesn't impact on the piece at all.

I'll write up a more detailed critique tomorrow when it's not 3 am and I'm not extremely tired.

7th September 2008, 05:31	#1 (permalink)
Archaaz Member Join Date: Aug 2008 Location: Texas Posts: 395 Rep Power: 1	Kindred Ralla tore through the crowded streets of Tindrem, weaving frantically in and out of the pedestrian traffic and gradually widening the gap that separated her from her pursuers. Behind her, several members of the city guard struggled to catch up to her, though none could match the length and power of her strides. Whatever she may have lacked by way of agility was more than compensated by a rather prodigious strength and an unflagging endurance- both gifts of the orcan half of her lineage. Even with the blood of fear and panic pumping madly through her veins she was unable to stifle a certain undeniable delight and exhilaration at the spectacle of the whole affair. Capture would, at the very least, entail the loss of her newly acquired merchandise, as well as an enthusiastic beating at the hands of the guards. At worst, she supposed, they might even kill her. Nevertheless, she felt her mouth twist into a uncontrollable grin of pure, wild-eyed excitement. A childhood of vagrancy and petty larceny had afforded her a thorough understanding of the city’s mazelike assortment of narrow streets and twisting alleyways, knowledge she was able to put to great use leading the guards on a grand and confusing tour of one the city’s seedier districts, before finally eluding them and secreting herself behind an opportune stack of barrels. After many minutes, Ralla cautiously peeked out from her hiding place to determine her situation. When she had assured herself of her escape, she stepped from behind the barrels and examined her ill-gotten wealth. She had managed to snatch a coin purse from the surprised hand of a careless noblewoman, an event which directly brought about her subsequent flight from the gendarmes. Wasting no time, she opened the small pouch and greedily shook its contents into her palm. Two gold coins. Not a fortune by any means, but more than enough to feed her for a few days. Rejoicing at both her escape and her newfound prosperity, she secured the purse about her person and set off in the direction of the docks, her favorite part of the city. Fear of an unexpected reunion with the guards caused her to choose her way cautiously. Sticking to a carefully selected path of back streets and secluded alleys brought her at last to Tindrem’s bustling market; a sprawling conglomeration of shops and stalls located on the city’s wharf. Stopping just long enough to purchase a stale loaf of bread, a few dried fish, and a bottle of cheap wine, she continued out to the end of the farthest dock. The merchant who had sold her the goods had done so only reluctantly. One look at Ralla’s half-orcan features caused the man’s face to wrinkle in disgust. But hard times often proved a convenient cure for prejudice, and the man nonetheless relieved her of her money, returning the change and handing over her purchases. Positioning herself on the edge of the dock, Ralla set about enjoying her ample, if somewhat uninspiring, dinner and watching the comings and goings of the mighty sailing vessels. The wine slowly began to take hold, lulling her into a dreamlike state of warm nostalgia. Strange that a mere few sips of rotgut wine should so utterly transform a life of hardship and injustice, imbuing it with a certain rosy wistfulness- a blanket of forgetfulness with which to smother life’s more unpleasant aspects. And yet, in Ralla, this very forgetfulness was already manifest, the wine merely enhanced the sensation. She was a creature of the here and now. For her, the future was but the very faintest of outlines, extending some mere few days; the past, nothing more than a hazy, intangible fog of half-remembered impressions. Like her great strength and stamina, this attachment to the present was a gift of her orcan blood. It might be said that, for Ralla, life spread out like the very ocean she so loved, with the highlights- the pleasurable parts- cresting as waves upon the surface; the tragic buried several fathoms deep. Imagining herself on one of the passing caravels, soothed by the hypnotic regularity of the crashing of the waves, Ralla drifted off into a restful, wine-induced slumber. __________________ "I do not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." ~Voltaire (Explorer 80%, Socializer 60%, Killer 40%, Achiever 20%) Last edited by Archaaz : 6th October 2008 at 01:05.

7th September 2008, 11:09	#2 (permalink)
KroqGar Member Join Date: Apr 2008 Location: Victoria, BC Posts: 246 Rep Power: 1	Really nicely done story. I really enjoyed the simple aspect of the whole thing, and it could easily be taken farther with the character presented. I think the inflection aspect was a little underdeveloped, but overall, it doesn't impact on the piece at all. I'll write up a more detailed critique tomorrow when it's not 3 am and I'm not extremely tired.