1 Searing, Year 122
[Closed, Solo.]
[Out of season thread approved by Rune]
[Continuation of Part I]
“I see. This is a place with standards, and I am sure that as a member of your Gens, you understand quality. I have an apartment available that may be suitable for you. Will it just be you occupying it?” He wanted to know, and she nodded in the affirmative. “Very good. It is a bit large for one person, there is a second bedroom that perhaps you could use for a study… Yteri,” he called out to the slave that had escorted her in earlier. The door opened, and the woman stood there in silence, her head bowed. “Take her to 406, let her see it, and then escort her back to me.” He indicated the key on the wall, and nodded to Hilana.
“Thank you, sir. I am sure that I can make use of a second bedroom; this building is lovely and I’m sure my family would enjoy seeing it when they visit. I understand that there is a stable near here that you run as well?” Hilana said as she rose.
“There is, around the back. I keep it for my tenants such as yourself that have their own means of travel and like to have them nearby.” The older man confirmed.
“I do have my camel with me, so if there should be an available stall…” she stepped back from the desk. Yteri had taken the key from the rack, waiting for her.
“This way, please,” the servant motioned her forward before heading for the staircase. 406. What a coincidence that was, she thought. Youngest of four living children, out of a total of six children. Hilana had no complaints as she made her way up the stairs after the slave. She was young and in good shape, and the staircase was an easy climb. She didn’t have much to bring up with her; she hadn’t seen the need beyond a few items of clothes and her snake. In the desert, you packed what you needed, and very little else. Unlike her sisters, she had very little attachment to most material goods. They were things. A good tool was worth its weight in gold, but almost all of them could be replaced. Her friends and animals, on the other hand…
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, as they reached the fourth floor. The last door on the right was numbered with the embossed 406, right at eye level. Yteri unlocked it and opened the door before stepping back, crossing her wrists at her waist and lowering her head, letting Hilana step in first. “Thank you,” she told the serva, though the woman only nodded and did not answer her. Inside, Hilana was pleasantly surprised. It was bright and open, the walls painted a stark white. Likely to make it bigger than it was. But there were windows, plenty of windows, and they let in a light with the curtains drawn to the side. What furniture there was looked to be in good shape - a couch, a chair, and a low coffee table. She hasn’t needed new, after all, just usable. There were a few decorations and a number of rugs, which pleased her. There was enough room in the kitchen for what she needed, and she checked over each of the two bedrooms. Bed. Wardrobe. Chest. A desk. Plenty. It wasn’t what she had seen in the family estate in Tertium… but Hilana was decidedly glad of it. It was too much. Too much everything, with no real room to breathe. The most sparse area of the whole house had been her room, only for them to fill it with clothes and cosmetics and trinkets in this effort to encourage her civilization, as Athalia had called it. Getting dressed up and going to parties with ruffles and gowns and jewelry…
After a quick coursing through, Hilana was satisfied, returning to the serva waiting for her inside the doorway. “Thank you. We can go back down now,” she told her, and Yteri opened the door for the girl to step through. She headed for the corridor, waiting at the door to the stairs for the slave while she locked it rather than getting too far ahead. The man had told her to bring her back, after all, and this time Hilana opened the door for them, making her way down the steps, the full hem of her skirt flouncing under her cloak as she made her way back down, having to restrain herself from taking the steps two or three at a time. Stay calm, lest something slip that Hilana had energy to spare and that she was a hurricane disguised as a Vastian woman. Yteri knocked once again on the office door before opening it for Hilana, and she stepped inside, nodding to the slave.
“What did you think of it?” The landlord asked her, sitting back in his chair.
“I liked it very much,” she told him, getting out one of her pouches from her rucksack. Her hand brushed the snake's side, tickling his chin quickly before she brought the pouch out. “May I ask what the rent is?”
“Three gold pieces a day,” the man watched her to see how she took it, and Hilana didn’t protest, didn’t attempt to negotiate, she only nodded. “I take rent every ten days for the first season with a new tenant, and then once a month going forward. It’s nothing personal, you understand; I’ve had too many people that will be late or refuse to pay. Oh, and two silver pieces per day for your camel, on the same schedule.” He was almost disappointed she didn’t try to haggle like he would have expected someone from a merchant family to; but she knew that was what she could expect for the rate for this area of the city.
“I do of course understand,” Hilana nodded, counting out the gold coins and stacking them. 32 gold, which she let the man take and he wrote it down, issuing her a slip of paper for her receipt, along with two keys on the ring.
“This one is so that you can get into the building at night, since once the sun sets, we lock the doors for security, and this one is your key to the apartment,” he explained. “Have you any other questions?”
“No, sir. Thank you very much,” Hilana bowed her head to him, tucking the keys and receipt away. “A good day to you.” Yteri opened the door for her, and the girl headed out, going back to retrieve Hayima’el and head for Port Vasta. That hadn’t been so bad, and truth be told, she was excited for her new home. It was more than she had grown up with, decidedly less than her father’s estate in Tertium, and as plain as it may have been to others… it suited her perfectly. She could add her own touches to it, adjust and decorate as she wanted… She undid the leads from the post, bringing them back over Hayima’el’s head, and guided her mount over to the post. “Hold,” she warned him, crouching a bit and boosting herself up to perch on the rail, standing neatly and observing the streets around her. She was well-aware of the stares, and she clicked her tongue, and the behemoth of a camel turned sideways, lining himself up with the post, and Hilana ducked neatly under the sunshade attached to her saddle and settled down, sliding easily into place. Next stop, Port Vasta.
That district she was fairly familiar with, but it was a matter of getting there. She knew why none of the convoy, many of them she had grown up with, hadn’t stayed. She had to learn it for herself. Hitherto now, Hilana had been able to follow the pack, watching and listening, but letting others take charge and make the decisions. She followed their lead, for the most part. Now, she wasn’t going to have that luxury; her whiskers were grown. And she wouldn’t have the option to slip away from Tertium to make the trip to the herds and go find her friends outside the city when her father’s back was turned. She had toughed out the last year and a half without a pack, catching up and refining what she had learned in the sands, and this would have to be more of the same. But it bought her time. She and her camel left the Old City, making their way towards the briny scent of the Port. When in doubt, follow your nose to the sea.
“Don’t even think about it,” Hilana told the camel as he drew his head up, looking at a rangy-looking horse that was jerking its head and reins from the owner’s hand. She knew full well her bull wouldn’t take such nonsense, and he was fixing to give the horse a good kick as they were coming up alongside. That was the fun thing about a camel; they didn’t just kick straight back. “Fix your gelding’s bridle,” she advised the harried-looking man. “It’s hurting its tongue.”
“What?” He barked back at her in Common, rather than Vastian. Ah. A foreigner. More and more of them, surely… but it was an opportunity.
“I said,” Hilana began in Common. “You must fix the bridle of your mount. It is hurting your gelding’s tongue. That is why he is struggling against you and you are going to let him hurt someone. Get off of your horse and fix it.” Her tone was polite, but she was frowning, and when the horse began to plunge and rear, she leaned low in her own much higher saddle to grab onto the horse’s bridle, undoing it. Hayima’el’s back leg was drawing up, well-prepared to lash out if he judged it necessary with the upset horse being so close.
Part III
[Closed, Solo.]
[Out of season thread approved by Rune]
[Continuation of Part I]
“I see. This is a place with standards, and I am sure that as a member of your Gens, you understand quality. I have an apartment available that may be suitable for you. Will it just be you occupying it?” He wanted to know, and she nodded in the affirmative. “Very good. It is a bit large for one person, there is a second bedroom that perhaps you could use for a study… Yteri,” he called out to the slave that had escorted her in earlier. The door opened, and the woman stood there in silence, her head bowed. “Take her to 406, let her see it, and then escort her back to me.” He indicated the key on the wall, and nodded to Hilana.
“Thank you, sir. I am sure that I can make use of a second bedroom; this building is lovely and I’m sure my family would enjoy seeing it when they visit. I understand that there is a stable near here that you run as well?” Hilana said as she rose.
“There is, around the back. I keep it for my tenants such as yourself that have their own means of travel and like to have them nearby.” The older man confirmed.
“I do have my camel with me, so if there should be an available stall…” she stepped back from the desk. Yteri had taken the key from the rack, waiting for her.
“This way, please,” the servant motioned her forward before heading for the staircase. 406. What a coincidence that was, she thought. Youngest of four living children, out of a total of six children. Hilana had no complaints as she made her way up the stairs after the slave. She was young and in good shape, and the staircase was an easy climb. She didn’t have much to bring up with her; she hadn’t seen the need beyond a few items of clothes and her snake. In the desert, you packed what you needed, and very little else. Unlike her sisters, she had very little attachment to most material goods. They were things. A good tool was worth its weight in gold, but almost all of them could be replaced. Her friends and animals, on the other hand…
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, as they reached the fourth floor. The last door on the right was numbered with the embossed 406, right at eye level. Yteri unlocked it and opened the door before stepping back, crossing her wrists at her waist and lowering her head, letting Hilana step in first. “Thank you,” she told the serva, though the woman only nodded and did not answer her. Inside, Hilana was pleasantly surprised. It was bright and open, the walls painted a stark white. Likely to make it bigger than it was. But there were windows, plenty of windows, and they let in a light with the curtains drawn to the side. What furniture there was looked to be in good shape - a couch, a chair, and a low coffee table. She hasn’t needed new, after all, just usable. There were a few decorations and a number of rugs, which pleased her. There was enough room in the kitchen for what she needed, and she checked over each of the two bedrooms. Bed. Wardrobe. Chest. A desk. Plenty. It wasn’t what she had seen in the family estate in Tertium… but Hilana was decidedly glad of it. It was too much. Too much everything, with no real room to breathe. The most sparse area of the whole house had been her room, only for them to fill it with clothes and cosmetics and trinkets in this effort to encourage her civilization, as Athalia had called it. Getting dressed up and going to parties with ruffles and gowns and jewelry…
After a quick coursing through, Hilana was satisfied, returning to the serva waiting for her inside the doorway. “Thank you. We can go back down now,” she told her, and Yteri opened the door for the girl to step through. She headed for the corridor, waiting at the door to the stairs for the slave while she locked it rather than getting too far ahead. The man had told her to bring her back, after all, and this time Hilana opened the door for them, making her way down the steps, the full hem of her skirt flouncing under her cloak as she made her way back down, having to restrain herself from taking the steps two or three at a time. Stay calm, lest something slip that Hilana had energy to spare and that she was a hurricane disguised as a Vastian woman. Yteri knocked once again on the office door before opening it for Hilana, and she stepped inside, nodding to the slave.
“What did you think of it?” The landlord asked her, sitting back in his chair.
“I liked it very much,” she told him, getting out one of her pouches from her rucksack. Her hand brushed the snake's side, tickling his chin quickly before she brought the pouch out. “May I ask what the rent is?”
“Three gold pieces a day,” the man watched her to see how she took it, and Hilana didn’t protest, didn’t attempt to negotiate, she only nodded. “I take rent every ten days for the first season with a new tenant, and then once a month going forward. It’s nothing personal, you understand; I’ve had too many people that will be late or refuse to pay. Oh, and two silver pieces per day for your camel, on the same schedule.” He was almost disappointed she didn’t try to haggle like he would have expected someone from a merchant family to; but she knew that was what she could expect for the rate for this area of the city.
“I do of course understand,” Hilana nodded, counting out the gold coins and stacking them. 32 gold, which she let the man take and he wrote it down, issuing her a slip of paper for her receipt, along with two keys on the ring.
“This one is so that you can get into the building at night, since once the sun sets, we lock the doors for security, and this one is your key to the apartment,” he explained. “Have you any other questions?”
“No, sir. Thank you very much,” Hilana bowed her head to him, tucking the keys and receipt away. “A good day to you.” Yteri opened the door for her, and the girl headed out, going back to retrieve Hayima’el and head for Port Vasta. That hadn’t been so bad, and truth be told, she was excited for her new home. It was more than she had grown up with, decidedly less than her father’s estate in Tertium, and as plain as it may have been to others… it suited her perfectly. She could add her own touches to it, adjust and decorate as she wanted… She undid the leads from the post, bringing them back over Hayima’el’s head, and guided her mount over to the post. “Hold,” she warned him, crouching a bit and boosting herself up to perch on the rail, standing neatly and observing the streets around her. She was well-aware of the stares, and she clicked her tongue, and the behemoth of a camel turned sideways, lining himself up with the post, and Hilana ducked neatly under the sunshade attached to her saddle and settled down, sliding easily into place. Next stop, Port Vasta.
That district she was fairly familiar with, but it was a matter of getting there. She knew why none of the convoy, many of them she had grown up with, hadn’t stayed. She had to learn it for herself. Hitherto now, Hilana had been able to follow the pack, watching and listening, but letting others take charge and make the decisions. She followed their lead, for the most part. Now, she wasn’t going to have that luxury; her whiskers were grown. And she wouldn’t have the option to slip away from Tertium to make the trip to the herds and go find her friends outside the city when her father’s back was turned. She had toughed out the last year and a half without a pack, catching up and refining what she had learned in the sands, and this would have to be more of the same. But it bought her time. She and her camel left the Old City, making their way towards the briny scent of the Port. When in doubt, follow your nose to the sea.
“Don’t even think about it,” Hilana told the camel as he drew his head up, looking at a rangy-looking horse that was jerking its head and reins from the owner’s hand. She knew full well her bull wouldn’t take such nonsense, and he was fixing to give the horse a good kick as they were coming up alongside. That was the fun thing about a camel; they didn’t just kick straight back. “Fix your gelding’s bridle,” she advised the harried-looking man. “It’s hurting its tongue.”
“What?” He barked back at her in Common, rather than Vastian. Ah. A foreigner. More and more of them, surely… but it was an opportunity.
“I said,” Hilana began in Common. “You must fix the bridle of your mount. It is hurting your gelding’s tongue. That is why he is struggling against you and you are going to let him hurt someone. Get off of your horse and fix it.” Her tone was polite, but she was frowning, and when the horse began to plunge and rear, she leaned low in her own much higher saddle to grab onto the horse’s bridle, undoing it. Hayima’el’s back leg was drawing up, well-prepared to lash out if he judged it necessary with the upset horse being so close.
Part III
