The Savannah like areas outside of the city seem to stretch off forever, with the northern mountains the only visible feature once you get away from the city and the cluster of settlements that dot it's edges.

For acres and acres, there is an endless stretch of small farms with plantations visible. Occasionally, Gaja spies a fortified compound of stone with family markings.

The area is hardly abandoned. Slaves and farmers, merchants and soldiers walk the road to buy/sell from the city or simply bring water from one of the many wells that dot the region.

[OOC: Is anyone going with Gaja? Assuming no. Also is she riding her scorpion? Assuming yes.]

  "Yucca, over in that patch," Gaja explains over her shoulder as she gestures toward a mess of sharp leaves and billowing white flowers.  "The petals cook up well, and quickly, but take the middles out first.  The pollen is disgusting.  Lot of water in the roots, too, but you have to pulp them for it."

  Gaja had spent nearly a full day on the ark when they returned, only leaving once to trade for a young goat.  Really, she'd even kept to Szkarik's pen the great bulk of her time on the ark.  The goat had only screamed for half a minute, at least.  When she emerged again, it was mounted, and the to-do on the docks was exceptional.  Monstrous arthropods were hardly a routine part of Vissian life, and she wasn't exactly heeding right-of-way.  It didn't matter.  The customs officers certainly weren't going to chance obstructing her, and no one else had the arms to try it.  A brief stop by the inn where their crew had berthed, and she was on her way with her protêge riding behind.

  She'd been pointing out the plants and animals she recognized as they traveled inland and explaining as much as she could about their value, both to humans and to each other.  It kept her talking almost non-stop: the area was enough like her home, and near enough to it, that she seemed to have something to say about every living thing they passed.  Sarnai may have already understood the life of nomadic herders, but she was getting an extensive education in the details of living that way here.

  "Dates.  But those seem better known," she says as they ride near one of the more expansive plantations.  The clusters of fruit are small and green still, not ready for harvest, and the trunk had been tapped for sap.  "I'm not sure about the bladders hanging from the trees, though.  Maybe an offering for a better harvest?  It's not going to help them with all this salt air blowing in and no hills to turn it into rain."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:16, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

Vasati hated being outside of the city for a great number of reasons, most principally how quiet it was.  Oh there was sound, to be sure, but it wasn't the same as the bustling chaos of a city.  It was birds, and insects, and the wind through the trees.  It felt empty and devoid of purpose and life.  His whispers, his many little friends lurking on every corner, were not to be found at any of the country crossroads.  He found the silence deafening, and preferred to travel via far swifter means when he was forced to relocate.  He had many options, but they weren't exactly subtle, and subtly was what he was going for here.  So he walked, and prepared himself to be bored.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

He hadn't gone a mile when he saw a simply monstrous form on the horizon, casually out for a stroll like it didn't have a care in the world.  Looking to its back, he saw that it had a rider.  The thing was domesticated!  He knew exactly what it was, and he could barely hold back a laugh as it drew closer.  Indeed, he was beaming as Gaja and her retainer drew near.

"Greetings, Signora.  You certainly know how to put a poor traveler to shame!"

He gave her an elaborate bow as she drew near, a duelist's bow, more the opening moves of a dance than proper formality.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:35, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

  There's a moment just after Gaja signals for the scorpion to stop, a brief one, when she fixes Vasati with a particularly suspicious glare, even for him. But that bow softens her, or perhaps tells her what she wanted to know, and her response comes with a pleased smile and a look of considerably positive appraisal.

  "If you're ashamed to be walking," she teases, "why not fly?" She smirks, and just that movement of her lips is an essay. She's leaving town, of course, but not permanently. He might do well to welcome her back when the time comes, but the girl kneeling behind her would cost him the hand he touched her with. And she's in no great hurry; wherever she's going, it will be there for a while. It is an especially detailed smirk.

  "However you go, you should be careful about it though. There are raiders about, you know!" Something about that makes her laugh, and she shoots the younger woman some sort of knowing look. Then she turns her head and brings her knees up as though to urge their mount onward, but pauses mid-motion. And when I tell the story of the poor traveler who flew, what should I call him?"

He beamed up at her, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes thickening.

"It would either be a very dull story, or one overfull of embellishments and outright lies.  Which I suppose is true of all legends and myths.  That said, one does not always wish to be the most memorable thing to happen in a hundred years."

He answered her question with a grin, gesturing to the enormous desert creature upon which she rode.

"Besides, why would I try and steal your thunder?  I had wondered how long it would take me to meet those who have caused such a ruckus at the docks.  This latest...

He quirked an eyebrow.

"... is already the talk of the town.  A bigger tale then even the iceberg, I'd think. I was at the outer gate when I'd heard, didn't think I'd get to see it for...

He trailed off.

"Ah, I am forgetting myself.  My apologies, Signora, I am pleased to be known to you as Vasati.  What shall I call you and your companion?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:45, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

  Recalling the hubbub gets a shamelessly self-satisfied smile from her, but she doesn't comment on it aside from that. Instead, Gaja rolls the name over her tongue a few times, at least once in his exact voice. She has that chasing-a-memory squint going "Mmh. Vasati... Vasati, Vasati... Vasati? Vasati. That one's an antique. I think I've heard it once, in an old song, but never in use. I am Gaja Broken-Chord, and this is Sarnai.

  She twitches a shoulder back toward the other rider. She hadn't named a tribe for her. But then, neither had she acknowledged being a tribal in any rumor Vasati had caught inside the city. She was still dressed in some of the roughest-made clothing he'd ever seen, a blouse and pantaloons that look thrown together from scraps. Hardly a celebrity's get-up, and clearly beneath her potential. Of course, she had given  a name that clearly did not belong in Vissio; she could be laying low. And the scorpion... She was watching Vasati closely now.

  "You're a showman. A performer. What's your craft?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:14, Thu 06 Dec 2018.

"A song!  You know the epic of the Raja's Eternal Flame?"

He sounded genuinely pleased.

"It's quite an old ballad, I can't imagine where you would pick up such a thing."

He threw his head back and let loose a forlorn cry that transformed into a beautiful yet heartrending ballad.

"Aag jo use chalaee gaee, bujh nahin sakatee thee, har din usane aag ko jalaaya. jo choree ho gaya tha vah yaad nahin kar saka, vah nukasaan jo vah mahasoos kar sakata tha phir bhee vah usaka naam nahin jaanata tha!"

It wasn't Vissian, perhaps something from the Kasirutan Archipelago given that he had been speaking of Rajas.

"To answer your question, Signora Broken-Chord?  I am a Chronicler."

He held out both his arms so that his palms were facing towards her.  As he did, a bright rune of blue flashed briefly in each palm.  Before she could get a clear look at it, it was gone.

"A keeper of things long lost and forgotten.  Recently out of retirement, in fact, given all the recent excitement.  Excitement that you appear to be the center of.  What are you?  To master a beast such as this?  I have never heard of anything like it!  Look at these!"

His steps were light as any dancers as he slipped forward, reaching out a hand to inspect the giant scorpion's claws and then darting back before it could snip at him.

"This is a beast of destruction and war, a terror for the ages!"

He sounded excited, not afraid.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:03, Thu 06 Dec 2018.

  Well, Gaja recognizes the tune at least well enough to hum along, and for a moment, the whole of the world around them seems to join in.  The wind carries snatches of birdcall and the work-songs of nearby farmers their way in a nearly coherent melody, and the shuffle of rough chitin plates past one another manages to set a subtle rhythm.  It's possible, if a little ridiculous, that the scorpion is dancing.  It's definitely the right melody, too.  The gray of her eyes seems to darken, but it's only her pupils dilating as he sings.  The way she shifts her weight forward makes it particularly reminiscent of a stalking cat.

  "You know it better than I do," she interjects briefly.  "Not many people can say that of a song—I think we are both surprised."  She raises one skeptical eyebrow when Vasati comes within grabbing range, and even the brief touch gets him a warning lunge with the other claw.  No threat displays, anyway, though the second rider is far enough back her weight might make a strike clumsy.

  "He's a sunchaser.  They're native to the red sands, but we raised a few different breeds.  Some for useful venoms, some for carrying burdens... Sunchasers for speed.  And Szkarik here—"  She leaned forward and rubbed the beast's head, just between the eyes, above the mouthparts.  "—was the fastest.  I raised him myself."  She looks outrageously proud of that fact, possibly the reason she was so quick to divulge.  Vasati does seem to have made a good impression on her, in any case.

  "Come with us, chronicler, if you want.  We're going to be seeing plenty more beasts you won't find outside the Wastes, and perhaps you'll decide for yourself what I am."

"Would that I could, Signora, I am certainly in the market for new companions of legend.  My retirement lasted a little bit longer than I had intended, and many of those whom I called ally have since laid down the implements of their trade."

He looked truly sorrowful for a moment, but only a moment, before his smile returned.

"Unfortunately, I am already committed on an errand of favor for a new potential friend, one who in a quite understated fashion refers to themselves as the Doctor of Death.  Are you familiar with such an individual?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:22, Thu 06 Dec 2018.