Post by kelantar on Apr 27, 2019 1:57:02 GMT
The clouds opened in front of Kel'antar as he fell through the skies at an impressive speed, the sound of the wind lashing against his ears fast and fierce, his clothes flapping uncontrollably. His vision was fading, and he had to force himself to remain with his eyes open trying to make sense out of the situation he found himself in. It was like waking up forcibly from a dream, he couldn't remember how he got there or what was going on, except that differently from a dream that information did not come to him after a few moments had passed. The only thing that was coming to him was the ground speeding up faster and faster towards him. First, it was only a mass of land and water. Then, he made out the shore he was heading towards. Then, the city started to appear.
It was clear he would fall on the city and he could only adjust his trajectory so much in the time he had left. He made his best effort to remain "awake" and concious, and then, by shifting his body, he tried to adjust his trajectory. The way he was falling he was going to land in the marketplace, he could already see the people thin and small like needletops. He veered himself off to the side passed a rather large tower, and then crashed into a tall building, taking some tiles off the roof as he punched through. The ground was imminent, he readied himself for what was going to come next. And yet, his descent seemed to slow down at the last moment. It was almost impercerptible, but it happened suddenly and unexplicably. A brief sensation of vertigo took hold mere seconds before his body finally touched the ground and when he did, he bounced off and skid along the ground a considerable distance before stopping, rolling to the side.
His whole body hurt, in ways he didn't think possible but he was alive. A high pitched sound was all he could hear, as if the sound of the wind had gotten somehow inside his ears. The darkness began to creep on the corner of his eyes once again, but it was swiftly pushed aside by the way the sounds blended into one another, the high pitching was removed and replaced by a cacophony of sounds that swirled and fought one another for dominance. He was dizzy. And then one voice pushed through, a male's voice ragged and shocked.
"A-are you alright"
He forced his vision to return, pushed through with sheer will until his eyes were opened. He tried to step up and realised he could not feel his body, and yet it responded to him. Slowly he got up to his knees, and then his full body. He looked around. All around him were pieces of buildings, wooden pieces of tiles and ceramic. The voice belonged to a merchant dressed in what looked to be a dusty apron and behind him a small crowd was gathering. It was only two people at first, but then a few other faces exited the nearby buildings to come and gaze at what happened, and soon, the sight of people gathering to see something started to gather more people, althought it was a slow process. He finally got up to his feet and looked at the man, from above his height. He tilted his head and opened his mouth to speak.
"I am alright"
He said in a language that was already starting to sound foreign to his own ears. The merchant looked confused, and it confirmed his thoughts. He could not understand him. He tried to focus his mind, to speak again, summoning a knowledge that was quickly leaving his mind.
"I am fine"
He repeated this time in a language that some of the present folk could understand clearly, however, by the look on their collective faces they did not believe what he was saying for just about a single second. And, to be frank with himself, neither did he. He took a step and felt as if the world was slightly tilting to the side, he had to correct the trajectory of his path, however when he did he almost swung entirely to one side and had to catch himself against the corner of a house. The merchant spoke out alarmed and reached out to grab his arm, to prevent him from falling, but Kel'antar was faster and managed to grab hold of the collumn.
"You are most definitely not fine, what happened to you?"
Said the merchant, Ke'lantar looked at him with a look that was between unconcious and tired, still forcing himself to be awake for the conversation. He had come to do something important there and could not let himself be distracted. Something was of importance, something demanded urgency and that forced him to move. He had to move from that city. Had to do something. Couldn't remember what. He didn't answer in time before another person of those that were gathering nearby finally spoke out for him.
"He fell from the sky, I saw him, came crashing right through the red stallion's roof"
And then he pointed up to the upmost corner of the roof, where a piece was missing, as it was now scattered all around him.
"Somebody should call the guards"
Said another person, and a third one replied
"I'm on it"
And ran off, surely hoping the rest would help him catch up with what had just happened by the time he came back. Guards? Thought Kel'antar, that sounded like trouble. He didn't know why, he had done nothing wrong, and yet. The thought of foreign authority was regarded as almost a lethal threat to him, he could not fall into their hands, he began to walk away. And by walk away, he meant stumble away. He managed three steps before he fell to his knees and had to push himself up again, the merchant that had first interacted with him followed him up closely, not yet daring to put a hand against him as of yet.
"Listen just stay where you are, if you have something broken it'll be worse, it could kill you. The guards will know what to do."
There, on the background people were whispering to each other about the possibilities. What could he be? Where could he have come from? Was he a thief? Some others commented among each other about the high expectations the man had from the guards. It was not like they had any sort of formation to be a part of the guards, any sort of standards besides their understanding and own personal judgement of Waterdhavian laws, which were, at best, subjective and thus prone to such interpretations. However, and what mattered most was that the situation would be out of their hands and justice would be swiftly delivered, either to help the man or condemn him, they would know better.
"I'm not wounded"
Kel'antar replied and as far as everyone could see he was right. There was no blood on the ground, only dust and scattered pieces of wood everywhere, only his clothes were torn but not too much. And then the guards arrived, two of team wearing a simple metal hat and a pike, the easiest weapon to use. He fixed his gaze upon them and quickly noticed that, from their posture to the way they carried themselves. Untrained, but willing to use force. He willed himself to get up, and then like a switch being turned everything went black. He felt his body hitting against the ground but there was no pain to it, it was merely a shift in balance and that was it.
The next time he opened his eyes he was not laying in the streets but instead in a dungeon cell. Sunlight was a commodity or a privilege down there, as it seemed by the way there were not any windows except for a small circular hole high up in the wall. The stone floor was wet with some cracks in it, small, finger width streams of what he hoped was water flowed from one corner to the other making it's way through the cracks. He had his clothes, but he had lost everything else and he realised then... He didn't know what he had lost, though quickly a sense of despair and importance washed over him. He didn't have a beating heart to echo the feeling but he didn't need it, the moment the thought hit his mind he got up to his feet and realised he was unshackled, unharmed as well. The cell bars were closed, crude instruments made of dark steel with a smell of rust and urine. Somewhere in the near cells he could hear laments and talk.
His hands grabbed the cell bars and he shouted an age old call.
"Guards!"
It was clear he would fall on the city and he could only adjust his trajectory so much in the time he had left. He made his best effort to remain "awake" and concious, and then, by shifting his body, he tried to adjust his trajectory. The way he was falling he was going to land in the marketplace, he could already see the people thin and small like needletops. He veered himself off to the side passed a rather large tower, and then crashed into a tall building, taking some tiles off the roof as he punched through. The ground was imminent, he readied himself for what was going to come next. And yet, his descent seemed to slow down at the last moment. It was almost impercerptible, but it happened suddenly and unexplicably. A brief sensation of vertigo took hold mere seconds before his body finally touched the ground and when he did, he bounced off and skid along the ground a considerable distance before stopping, rolling to the side.
His whole body hurt, in ways he didn't think possible but he was alive. A high pitched sound was all he could hear, as if the sound of the wind had gotten somehow inside his ears. The darkness began to creep on the corner of his eyes once again, but it was swiftly pushed aside by the way the sounds blended into one another, the high pitching was removed and replaced by a cacophony of sounds that swirled and fought one another for dominance. He was dizzy. And then one voice pushed through, a male's voice ragged and shocked.
"A-are you alright"
He forced his vision to return, pushed through with sheer will until his eyes were opened. He tried to step up and realised he could not feel his body, and yet it responded to him. Slowly he got up to his knees, and then his full body. He looked around. All around him were pieces of buildings, wooden pieces of tiles and ceramic. The voice belonged to a merchant dressed in what looked to be a dusty apron and behind him a small crowd was gathering. It was only two people at first, but then a few other faces exited the nearby buildings to come and gaze at what happened, and soon, the sight of people gathering to see something started to gather more people, althought it was a slow process. He finally got up to his feet and looked at the man, from above his height. He tilted his head and opened his mouth to speak.
"I am alright"
He said in a language that was already starting to sound foreign to his own ears. The merchant looked confused, and it confirmed his thoughts. He could not understand him. He tried to focus his mind, to speak again, summoning a knowledge that was quickly leaving his mind.
"I am fine"
He repeated this time in a language that some of the present folk could understand clearly, however, by the look on their collective faces they did not believe what he was saying for just about a single second. And, to be frank with himself, neither did he. He took a step and felt as if the world was slightly tilting to the side, he had to correct the trajectory of his path, however when he did he almost swung entirely to one side and had to catch himself against the corner of a house. The merchant spoke out alarmed and reached out to grab his arm, to prevent him from falling, but Kel'antar was faster and managed to grab hold of the collumn.
"You are most definitely not fine, what happened to you?"
Said the merchant, Ke'lantar looked at him with a look that was between unconcious and tired, still forcing himself to be awake for the conversation. He had come to do something important there and could not let himself be distracted. Something was of importance, something demanded urgency and that forced him to move. He had to move from that city. Had to do something. Couldn't remember what. He didn't answer in time before another person of those that were gathering nearby finally spoke out for him.
"He fell from the sky, I saw him, came crashing right through the red stallion's roof"
And then he pointed up to the upmost corner of the roof, where a piece was missing, as it was now scattered all around him.
"Somebody should call the guards"
Said another person, and a third one replied
"I'm on it"
And ran off, surely hoping the rest would help him catch up with what had just happened by the time he came back. Guards? Thought Kel'antar, that sounded like trouble. He didn't know why, he had done nothing wrong, and yet. The thought of foreign authority was regarded as almost a lethal threat to him, he could not fall into their hands, he began to walk away. And by walk away, he meant stumble away. He managed three steps before he fell to his knees and had to push himself up again, the merchant that had first interacted with him followed him up closely, not yet daring to put a hand against him as of yet.
"Listen just stay where you are, if you have something broken it'll be worse, it could kill you. The guards will know what to do."
There, on the background people were whispering to each other about the possibilities. What could he be? Where could he have come from? Was he a thief? Some others commented among each other about the high expectations the man had from the guards. It was not like they had any sort of formation to be a part of the guards, any sort of standards besides their understanding and own personal judgement of Waterdhavian laws, which were, at best, subjective and thus prone to such interpretations. However, and what mattered most was that the situation would be out of their hands and justice would be swiftly delivered, either to help the man or condemn him, they would know better.
"I'm not wounded"
Kel'antar replied and as far as everyone could see he was right. There was no blood on the ground, only dust and scattered pieces of wood everywhere, only his clothes were torn but not too much. And then the guards arrived, two of team wearing a simple metal hat and a pike, the easiest weapon to use. He fixed his gaze upon them and quickly noticed that, from their posture to the way they carried themselves. Untrained, but willing to use force. He willed himself to get up, and then like a switch being turned everything went black. He felt his body hitting against the ground but there was no pain to it, it was merely a shift in balance and that was it.
The next time he opened his eyes he was not laying in the streets but instead in a dungeon cell. Sunlight was a commodity or a privilege down there, as it seemed by the way there were not any windows except for a small circular hole high up in the wall. The stone floor was wet with some cracks in it, small, finger width streams of what he hoped was water flowed from one corner to the other making it's way through the cracks. He had his clothes, but he had lost everything else and he realised then... He didn't know what he had lost, though quickly a sense of despair and importance washed over him. He didn't have a beating heart to echo the feeling but he didn't need it, the moment the thought hit his mind he got up to his feet and realised he was unshackled, unharmed as well. The cell bars were closed, crude instruments made of dark steel with a smell of rust and urine. Somewhere in the near cells he could hear laments and talk.
His hands grabbed the cell bars and he shouted an age old call.
"Guards!"
