Always be careful of what you seek….  The whispery voice of the child faded…

The wood of the forest blends into the deep red brick of the alley.  Startled from a nap, a small dragon, flaps its wings and propels itself upwards to the roof the sliver of blue sky.

It’s mid day in Shemara, the sun high, the air comfortable with a summer breeze.  On the street a few cars glide by, their lines curve like a 1952 Buick, that glide without wheels. The driver, a man wearing a suit, tips his hat to a woman on the street.  She wears a shirt dress in solid blue, her pill box hat matches, as do her shoes, but it’s a white gloved hand that waves to the man in the car.  Not far down the road, three attendants hustle quickly to tend to another automobile, two are elves, one appears to be a personified tiger.  From a parked car across the street, a waiting young man with brush cut, has finally stopped fiddling with the radio,  “…Now the rain's a-fallin', hear the train a-callin, "Whooee!"  (My mama done tol' me) Hear that lonesome whistle blowin' 'cross the trestle, "Whooee!"”

The sound of the record is crystal clear and a voice like an angel, but not one that is famililar.

A sound of jingling bells and clanking shells wafted through the wood as saplings and brush were pushed aside to make room for the mounted halfling. His stated intent was to return to his home land, but the woods knew his true desire was something else. Trained from birth to be the keeper of knowledge and lore of his people a great war had separated him from that life- he little understood this separation and would never admit it.

He held onto his reptilian mounts reigns with the dangling trinkets bouncing and sounding as he pulled to a stop at the new sights in front of him. He looked behind himself quickly, he knew at least one other had wished to follow, but could not see anyone for the trees. He knew bricks when he saw them, such buildings were common in the northern lands. These odd metallic vehicles were and odd sight considering lumbering trains were the only thing he could compare them to. He was definitely not in his home land, and in no land discovered on his world. Once more he found himself outside of what he knew, and it energized him to no end.

The buildings in front of him were relatively small, at least compared to the sky embracing towers he could see in the distance. The great smell of mass civilization was familiar to him; the sewage, the sweat, the stains of industrialization and smells of a vast variety of foods. Obihoe had once lived in the most populace city in his world, and these smells reminded him of home.

The first person to spot this savage looking halfling on his reptilian mount was a teenage boy playing with his vehicle. He saw him from a street away, but the dragon like mount and half-naked painted body sparked in him an urge of curiosity. He jumped from his vehicle and made a slow jog over, eying the small man from top to bottom trying to figure out why someone like him was doing in this day in age. "Hey...Hey mister! Yeah! You ther'! Whats dis? The circus come back in town? Whats that you on?" His excitement was easy to hear.

Obihoe was caught eying the strange towers in the distance as the young man was calling to him. If it was not for Windtail changing position to face the stranger he would not have noticed someone coming up to him so close. Slowly and in a voice far deeper than someone his size should have he replied to the odd bits he managed to hear. "Circus? Oh, no. Just we are here. We fled. Yes, came seeking something new. Where have we come child?"

Ay? You be living that poor man alone, now, boy. The man appeared as if out of nowhere and approached Obiohoe with a friendly smile, as the young boy gave a friendly wave and returned to the car.

Hi Friend.  I hope my apprentice, Jeff didn't say anything... inappropriate.  He's good boy, but has a habit of whatever idiotic thing travels thru his brain, comes out his mouth. The man shook his head, more than once he heard the boy say something that made him cringe.

Your in Shemara. It's a ... nice town. Mr. Oldwood looked about then back to Obiohoe. M'names Oldwood. Welcome. Despite Obiohoe's odd appearance in the setting, Mr. Oldwood appeared unfazed and the young man, although still curious and clearly listening, not concerned.  Still it was painfully clear that none other like Obiohoe and his steed were present.

Good meetings Oldwood. I am Obiho of the Stone Claw Tri--Circus. I have traveled so much I never remember a place. Your apprentice is fine, less my mount pick up offense.

While speaking his mind wondered to the new word. The animal person, the high towers, the floating trains, the odd dress of the peoples. All of this was a great contradiction to what he knew back home. Still he saw no torn fields, ruined cities, trenches or bodies of the dead. No screaming or wails due to chaos. As odd as this place was, there was peace.

Peace. Peace until he hear a volley of muskets. Instantly the smell of dirt, carrion and powder filled his nose. His mind swirled to memories and he jumped from wind tail, readied his spear and crouched for safety. He made a peculiar whistle and his reptile dropped to the ground.

What was a simple dropping of  equipment, crash or engine backfire became a battle to him. His face was stern and his searching rapidly for the source.

Peace, my friend.  That was nothing but the normal noise of our good town. Oldwood studied this new comer.  We are very...at ease here.  Oldwood's words were carefully chosen, suggesting that there was more than he was admiting.

Faintly, from away, it is almost as if a small child is sobbing ...