Post by Raithen Anar on Jan 1, 2006 10:06:52 GMT
( Open to all )
Pashaar swelled with the influx of visitors for the Great Games, of course games were held in every arena in the most remote desert town, but the Great Games drew people from all over the realm, sometimes from beyond. The city squares also were filled with entertainers, jugglers, fire-eaters, mummers, wine flowed and the streets were packed and lively all night and day.
The City watch and army were there to keep order, and the gaols were full. Rich merchants lodged in marble villas, or took over inns, the poor camped beyond the gates, or stayed with relatives, or squeezed into the poorer taverns. For some it was a once a year, or once in a lifetime trip, a holiday, for some it was much more serious, for the games could mean freedom, or death, a man under a death sentence could choose to train as a gladiator and have his sentence lifted if he won in the Games.
It was also an excellent opportunity for people to meet to arrange marriages, to attend the slave market to buy whatever caught their eye, information was also bought. What was the King doing? His ministers , what could be learned, what were the secrets? Pashaar, was a corrupt, decadent place at all times, but never moreso than the week of the Great Games.
Raithen left the palace and entered the city, he was veiled and robed like a sheik from the Great Erg desert, a tulwars thrust through his belt, but unescorted and he strode into the heat and scents of Pashaar, curious and fascinated.
Snatches of conversation came to him, in different languages, assignations, petty treacheries, plots, gossip. Spices and incense and perfumes hit him, from behind intricate screens of houses, veiled women peeped out, litters carried rich nobles, beggars held out bowls for coin, people in bright clothes thronged the bazaars, snake charmers sat cross legged whilst crowds watched, women danced, sinuous as the cobra's, jangling beaded scarves, their eyes elongated with kohl. He paused at the great slave market and watched as the factor showed his wares, men, women, young boys and girls while the buyers for the Sheikhs and merchants princes, of the cheiftains and nobles of the lands of the Haradhrim watched and made offers. And he had a glimpse of a world where one was owned and unfree, at anothers whim. It was alien, and fascinating, yet oddly vital, as humans were whose lives were so short they crammed sensation and living into every moment.
From the opium houses came the smell of smoke, prostitues hung over narrow balconies, veiled, but their bodies on display, groups of ragged children ran after a dog, yelling and laughing, hawkers bawled their wares. On the outskirts of the city the great markets for camels, horses, cattle, and sheep were thronged, noisy, pungent with the smell of manure and animal sweat. He backtracked through the winding streets, people streamed into temples and he followed, out of curiosity, watched them offer doves, sheep, lambs, to the black robed priests, to the Dark lord, although in their minds the dark Lord was any-one, Morgoth, Sauron - the blood worship still continued, himself, the Sun God .
In another small square, felons were being punished as eager crowds watched, a woman flogged for trying to escape her master, another beheaded for adultury, while the man with her lost a hand,
The people cheered when the punishments were effected, they enjoyed it.
He strode out onto a wide, palm lined road, which lead from the palace to the army camp without the city, and a train of Haradhrim guards galloped down it, bearing the Kings Eagle crest on their embossed armour the people pressed back, but stared, bowing their heads to the floor, but the road remained busy, it was the one place they might be sure to catch a glimpse of the God- King , for he was a warrior King and though he was feared the people, bloodthirsty and warlike as they were , were proud of it.
' I pray to the Dark Lord, to get one of my daughters to catch his eye, ' muttered one man to another, they were turbanned , with rich silk robes, slaves held parasols over their heads, . ' maybe at the Games, ' he continued
Raithen headed back into the heart of the city, letting the smells, and noise swirl around him. He found an inn, in a side street, and ordered wine, it, served by a dark girl with eyes like pieces of jet, who soon made it clear she was available for more than serving wine but when she lead him to her small room she became terrified when he disrobed, seeing his long golden hair and strange golden eyes and he had to put his will on her before she screamed and fled. Therefore it was not as satisfying as he might have thought it, and he was annoyed when she died. He left the inn, unheeded, loosing himself in the teeming crowds. The Games began in two days, open to all, - and he of course, would be in attendance.
Pashaar swelled with the influx of visitors for the Great Games, of course games were held in every arena in the most remote desert town, but the Great Games drew people from all over the realm, sometimes from beyond. The city squares also were filled with entertainers, jugglers, fire-eaters, mummers, wine flowed and the streets were packed and lively all night and day.
The City watch and army were there to keep order, and the gaols were full. Rich merchants lodged in marble villas, or took over inns, the poor camped beyond the gates, or stayed with relatives, or squeezed into the poorer taverns. For some it was a once a year, or once in a lifetime trip, a holiday, for some it was much more serious, for the games could mean freedom, or death, a man under a death sentence could choose to train as a gladiator and have his sentence lifted if he won in the Games.
It was also an excellent opportunity for people to meet to arrange marriages, to attend the slave market to buy whatever caught their eye, information was also bought. What was the King doing? His ministers , what could be learned, what were the secrets? Pashaar, was a corrupt, decadent place at all times, but never moreso than the week of the Great Games.
Raithen left the palace and entered the city, he was veiled and robed like a sheik from the Great Erg desert, a tulwars thrust through his belt, but unescorted and he strode into the heat and scents of Pashaar, curious and fascinated.
Snatches of conversation came to him, in different languages, assignations, petty treacheries, plots, gossip. Spices and incense and perfumes hit him, from behind intricate screens of houses, veiled women peeped out, litters carried rich nobles, beggars held out bowls for coin, people in bright clothes thronged the bazaars, snake charmers sat cross legged whilst crowds watched, women danced, sinuous as the cobra's, jangling beaded scarves, their eyes elongated with kohl. He paused at the great slave market and watched as the factor showed his wares, men, women, young boys and girls while the buyers for the Sheikhs and merchants princes, of the cheiftains and nobles of the lands of the Haradhrim watched and made offers. And he had a glimpse of a world where one was owned and unfree, at anothers whim. It was alien, and fascinating, yet oddly vital, as humans were whose lives were so short they crammed sensation and living into every moment.
From the opium houses came the smell of smoke, prostitues hung over narrow balconies, veiled, but their bodies on display, groups of ragged children ran after a dog, yelling and laughing, hawkers bawled their wares. On the outskirts of the city the great markets for camels, horses, cattle, and sheep were thronged, noisy, pungent with the smell of manure and animal sweat. He backtracked through the winding streets, people streamed into temples and he followed, out of curiosity, watched them offer doves, sheep, lambs, to the black robed priests, to the Dark lord, although in their minds the dark Lord was any-one, Morgoth, Sauron - the blood worship still continued, himself, the Sun God .
In another small square, felons were being punished as eager crowds watched, a woman flogged for trying to escape her master, another beheaded for adultury, while the man with her lost a hand,
The people cheered when the punishments were effected, they enjoyed it.
He strode out onto a wide, palm lined road, which lead from the palace to the army camp without the city, and a train of Haradhrim guards galloped down it, bearing the Kings Eagle crest on their embossed armour the people pressed back, but stared, bowing their heads to the floor, but the road remained busy, it was the one place they might be sure to catch a glimpse of the God- King , for he was a warrior King and though he was feared the people, bloodthirsty and warlike as they were , were proud of it.
' I pray to the Dark Lord, to get one of my daughters to catch his eye, ' muttered one man to another, they were turbanned , with rich silk robes, slaves held parasols over their heads, . ' maybe at the Games, ' he continued
Raithen headed back into the heart of the city, letting the smells, and noise swirl around him. He found an inn, in a side street, and ordered wine, it, served by a dark girl with eyes like pieces of jet, who soon made it clear she was available for more than serving wine but when she lead him to her small room she became terrified when he disrobed, seeing his long golden hair and strange golden eyes and he had to put his will on her before she screamed and fled. Therefore it was not as satisfying as he might have thought it, and he was annoyed when she died. He left the inn, unheeded, loosing himself in the teeming crowds. The Games began in two days, open to all, - and he of course, would be in attendance.
: Broadsword :
