Post by Fang on Mar 31, 2016 7:14:46 GMT
The headlong dash after the unknown assailant of the mysterious green woman had halted quickly once Wake broke free of the part of Etirath that housed the Infirmary. Where before the streets were mostly empty he now faced a massive wall of moving people, ambulating about in their daily tasks with little care for the reason a stranger would be rushing through their paths. He had attempted to move with haste in the throng, but found himself stymied by the sheer volume of people; never before had he found himself so crowded. So he walked, slipping between men carrying masonry, women carrying pails of water, and children running through the streets at every opportunity he could find. The progress was slow, and he found himself speaking to himself in a mumble as he searched the crowd.
"What exactly was your plan, Trekker? You don't know what the attacker looked like, where they went, and your only evidence is on a soiled shirt currently covering a mangled body." His berating stopped momentarily as he passed a small group of beautiful young women who eyed him warily. A small part of his mind admired their curves een as he registered what they must have thought of the mumbling man in dirty clothes who walked by. "Fat chance," he said again to himself as he craned his neck to watch the girls walk away.
Almost immediately he continued his fruitless search, scanning faces for any hint of guilt. There was plenty of that, though small clues told him that the people he saw with such expressions were likely not responsible for the tragedy he had come upon with Loretta and Gurath.
"If only he would pop out with that foul gunk covering his hands. That would make this a lot easier," he said to himself as he stopped and scanned the crowd more transparently. Something heavy bowled into him, and he stumbled a bit as he looked back to see a stooped man of middling years scowling up at him with enormous buckets of milk upon each shoulder.
"Watch where you're going, boy!" the man growled in a deep baritone before huffing away. It clearly didnt matter that he had been the one that ran into Wake.
The crowd became more oppressive as Wake resumed walking, and slowly he began to experience a feeling he had no definition for. It was as if the air around him here growing thinner even as the heat of the bodies amassed caused him to break into a sweat. HE shook his head as he walked in an attempt to clear the clearly erroneous feeling from his mind, but still he felt as if he were trapped in a space where one man might barely survive, much less the hundreds that milled about.
He had to find somewhere to break away from the crowd; somewhere to rest.
He scanned the area futilely, barely seeing ten feet around him due to the sheer number of people and goods that were being transported in the same space he occupied. A delightful, though distant sound, reached his ears through the roar of idle conversation that jarred him to the bone. A trickle of water, and the scent of it upon the air, gave him a heading, and without concern for the opinions of those he shoved past Wake headed to the source.
The closer he came to the sound the louder it grew, and the fewer people gathered. The faint sound of music could be heard, but its source was as unknown as that of the water. A small child ran in front of Wake almost before he could stop his momentum, causing him to stumble in his abrupt halt. He crashed to the ground with a huff of air as his own elbows nearly drove all of the air from his lungs. The sound of the water was close enough that it filled his ears, and when Wake looked up he saw his mistake clearly.
What he had thought was only a trickle was in fact a rush of gushing water from the spout of a large fountain crashing into the pool below it. There, seated on the stone ring that housed the falling water, sat a man with an instrument in hand that Wake could not identify, though he had never been very musically inclined. The man's fingers elicited a haunting melody that spoke of pain and hope; the chords striking Wake's mind ears with kiss of beauty.
Wake was drawn to the sound, and found himself taking a seat next to the man without realizing his actions. behind him the fountain added its own beat, constant in its descent into the pool, to the music the lone man played. A sense of peace fell over Wake, though he knew he still had a mission to accomplish. The beauty of the moment, especially in the midst of all of the chaos of mankind, was too difficult to ignore for Wake to try.
Doing his best not to disturb the musician Wake spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the water without interrrupting the song.
"Where did you learn to make such harmonics?'
"What exactly was your plan, Trekker? You don't know what the attacker looked like, where they went, and your only evidence is on a soiled shirt currently covering a mangled body." His berating stopped momentarily as he passed a small group of beautiful young women who eyed him warily. A small part of his mind admired their curves een as he registered what they must have thought of the mumbling man in dirty clothes who walked by. "Fat chance," he said again to himself as he craned his neck to watch the girls walk away.
Almost immediately he continued his fruitless search, scanning faces for any hint of guilt. There was plenty of that, though small clues told him that the people he saw with such expressions were likely not responsible for the tragedy he had come upon with Loretta and Gurath.
"If only he would pop out with that foul gunk covering his hands. That would make this a lot easier," he said to himself as he stopped and scanned the crowd more transparently. Something heavy bowled into him, and he stumbled a bit as he looked back to see a stooped man of middling years scowling up at him with enormous buckets of milk upon each shoulder.
"Watch where you're going, boy!" the man growled in a deep baritone before huffing away. It clearly didnt matter that he had been the one that ran into Wake.
The crowd became more oppressive as Wake resumed walking, and slowly he began to experience a feeling he had no definition for. It was as if the air around him here growing thinner even as the heat of the bodies amassed caused him to break into a sweat. HE shook his head as he walked in an attempt to clear the clearly erroneous feeling from his mind, but still he felt as if he were trapped in a space where one man might barely survive, much less the hundreds that milled about.
He had to find somewhere to break away from the crowd; somewhere to rest.
He scanned the area futilely, barely seeing ten feet around him due to the sheer number of people and goods that were being transported in the same space he occupied. A delightful, though distant sound, reached his ears through the roar of idle conversation that jarred him to the bone. A trickle of water, and the scent of it upon the air, gave him a heading, and without concern for the opinions of those he shoved past Wake headed to the source.
The closer he came to the sound the louder it grew, and the fewer people gathered. The faint sound of music could be heard, but its source was as unknown as that of the water. A small child ran in front of Wake almost before he could stop his momentum, causing him to stumble in his abrupt halt. He crashed to the ground with a huff of air as his own elbows nearly drove all of the air from his lungs. The sound of the water was close enough that it filled his ears, and when Wake looked up he saw his mistake clearly.
What he had thought was only a trickle was in fact a rush of gushing water from the spout of a large fountain crashing into the pool below it. There, seated on the stone ring that housed the falling water, sat a man with an instrument in hand that Wake could not identify, though he had never been very musically inclined. The man's fingers elicited a haunting melody that spoke of pain and hope; the chords striking Wake's mind ears with kiss of beauty.
Wake was drawn to the sound, and found himself taking a seat next to the man without realizing his actions. behind him the fountain added its own beat, constant in its descent into the pool, to the music the lone man played. A sense of peace fell over Wake, though he knew he still had a mission to accomplish. The beauty of the moment, especially in the midst of all of the chaos of mankind, was too difficult to ignore for Wake to try.
Doing his best not to disturb the musician Wake spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the water without interrrupting the song.
"Where did you learn to make such harmonics?'