Night Market [private][social]
Mar 19, 2024 17:52:48 GMT -5
Post by liamp on Mar 19, 2024 17:52:48 GMT -5
In the arid, sun drenched marketplace, the crowds began to wear thin. Chatter died down as bargaining was replaced with shopkeeps packing and hiding their wares, coin being tossed in the final exchanges of the evening. Citizens and travelers filtered out slowly, only once satisfied they'd seen every stall they could. Soon came the squeaking, wobbling wheels of carts and barrows, the clicks of keys in locks, the sighs and merriments of the weary shopkeeps. The intense sun had begun to fall near the horizon.
A cold night was blowing in, and a few shops more fit for a night's crowd slowly began to fill the darker, further stalls. Sounds of ale, mead, wine and more being poured into swirling glasses, barrels stacked high, jars laid out and fires brought to life started floating through the dusk marketplace. Some of the worn daykeeps from before had lingered behind for a drink, and to pester their friends for a dance in the dimming light.
A pale skinned moon elf trudged through the entrance street, lingering light catching ash falling from his clothes. He moved slowly, savoring the quiet before he hit the night market. The solace of a peaceful walk. He caught sight of the smoke drifting over stall tops, intermittent sounds of amateur instrumentalists taking their turns at tunes for the crowd. He hoped that maybe tonight would be different, that he'd be able to answer his own questions of why he was here, why he'd chose to roam a town again. His comfort from these dragging thoughts took the shape of the stars in the sky, waving through the heated smoke plumes until they grew so thick they muddled his view. He picked up his pace in the square now trickling with people, dodging dancers until he found a bar to pass solar over.
With drink in hand, his tired legs carried him to a table, where he fell exhausted onto the hard, warped bench. He drank in silence, barely watching the people around him move by with smiles. He returned them, of course, a habit he was now learning, and began to relax.
In the further, open roads of the marketplace that had began to run rampant only with dust, a tattooed, vibrant red fellblood found herself near alone on the stony walkways. A day well traveled had brought her to Zainav city, a busy respite from the glaring, simmering sands of the desert.
A cold night was blowing in, and a few shops more fit for a night's crowd slowly began to fill the darker, further stalls. Sounds of ale, mead, wine and more being poured into swirling glasses, barrels stacked high, jars laid out and fires brought to life started floating through the dusk marketplace. Some of the worn daykeeps from before had lingered behind for a drink, and to pester their friends for a dance in the dimming light.
A pale skinned moon elf trudged through the entrance street, lingering light catching ash falling from his clothes. He moved slowly, savoring the quiet before he hit the night market. The solace of a peaceful walk. He caught sight of the smoke drifting over stall tops, intermittent sounds of amateur instrumentalists taking their turns at tunes for the crowd. He hoped that maybe tonight would be different, that he'd be able to answer his own questions of why he was here, why he'd chose to roam a town again. His comfort from these dragging thoughts took the shape of the stars in the sky, waving through the heated smoke plumes until they grew so thick they muddled his view. He picked up his pace in the square now trickling with people, dodging dancers until he found a bar to pass solar over.
With drink in hand, his tired legs carried him to a table, where he fell exhausted onto the hard, warped bench. He drank in silence, barely watching the people around him move by with smiles. He returned them, of course, a habit he was now learning, and began to relax.
In the further, open roads of the marketplace that had began to run rampant only with dust, a tattooed, vibrant red fellblood found herself near alone on the stony walkways. A day well traveled had brought her to Zainav city, a busy respite from the glaring, simmering sands of the desert.