Zageron's Scene to Short Story Adaptations

[Zageron]

Short Stories
January. 26th, 2013: For Renevatia: Arrivals
January. 28th, 2013: Another one for Renevatia: Moon

Short Works
January. 30th, 2013: For Andy: Arbitration
Febuary. 2nd, 2013: For Crazyjayde: The Crowd

For Renevatia: Arrivals

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The dry stream side reeds brushed against my slacks as I came to a stop before Lyurio Creek. The sound of the rocks crunching beneath my feet drowned by the drone of the rushing water, I stood and looked out towards the Al Niar mountains. After the barren wasteland between Sul'mar and Keitsa, the Keitsa planes were a welcome sight. The pounding might of Eye'ek falls roared behind me, filling the otherwise docile landscape with an ominous air. Countless creatures of flight surfed the thermals rushing up from the wastes, wings spread lazily in the afternoon sunlight. Moisture would settle on this land when night fell, a thoroughly satisfying premise to be sure. Droplets forming on every upturned surface, drinking in the moonlight. It occurred to me that my reserves were likely very low, and collecting some moon drops wouldn't be a bad idea. Best prepare to avoid the night life though, running into a beast of the night would be troublesome given my current state.


I tread lightly over the surface of the water, peering between my feet at the fish swimming towards Eye'ek. Their long journey ended at the base of the mile high falls, hopes of a further journey crushed by the pure might of the downpour. The phosphorescent blue glow of the waters eased my mind away from my aching feet, bringing forward thoughts of the Nameless sea. To the east, far beyond Sul'mar the great tranquil ocean likely still sat glassy and unmoving, a perfect reflection of the sky above it. A facade of facades, the most treacherous place I have come to known, the peace promised by the expanse of blue drew the countless in unrest to their deaths. One of the few places I can not set foot.


Stepping softly onto the opposite bank I loped slowly towards the twins. A common camp for the poor traveller, unable to afford the exorbitant prices of Keitsa's hospitality. A number of thin lines of smoke rose up and west with the winds from the barren. Seven fires in all, quite a large party. It was unlikely that I would know any of the guests, so I held no reservation on my approach.


The rustling of the low trees surrounding the encampment announced my arrival, though no one would care enough to hear it. The two sentries within my sight greeted me with lazy waves, and a nod of welcome, as I moved past them. Stopping not far off at my usual place, I was greeted by several new growths well into their teenage years. Frowning thoughtfully I circled the spot until I located a well sized clearing. I removed my satchel and pulled the shelter gear from it's depths. Jamming one end into the ground the mechanism let out a low hiss and the field hummed into being. I removed my staffs, leaning them up against the tree, and set off toward the fires.


I sat down quietly on a bench next to a young mother and her child, the husband tended the cook pot while another family attended to the fire. I received a friendly smile and a number of raised eyebrows, but comprehension dawned on the confused fairly quickly. I graciously nodded in acceptance when a bowl of stew was offered to me, and pulled out a piece of hard bread from my long coat.


After the eating had concluded, and utensils quietly recovered and cleaned, everyone settled down before the fire. The mumble of conversation had long since faded to nothing upon my arrival, and I could feel the tension brought on by the silence approaching a breaking point. The young children especially, it was clear, were having difficulties remaining quiet. There is no law demanding silence in the presence of one such as myself. Over the years, an unspoken rule rose from the earth, as if a development of human nature. I do not remember when the tales spread to such an extent to cause such an effect, but I do remember the days of cheer.


Raising my gaze from the fire I took in the crowd. All of the benches, excluding the one on which I sat, had been rearranged to accommodate the occupants of all of the other fires. Well over thirty people now sat looking into the fire, stealing glances at me when their courage was high enough. I made sure to keep a warm smile on my face while I met each and every eye in turn. After expressing my thanks of hospitality, I returned my eyes to the fire.


One of the children in the far back sneezed violently, and I couldn't help but give out a low chuckle. I found myself with a great smile on my face as I determined the story I would tell this night. I stole a glance at the stars above before taking a deep breath.

Aldebaran is shining overheard this tale... This might change a few things.

And so, I began...


-- First Draft, minor edits, of a segment of the history of Zageron,
Inspired entirely by the concept painting by Renevatia.

tl;dr
dude arrives at a camp, starts telling a story



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(Indented for readability. Written in 1:30 hours.)