Savages of the Sacred Salvage
Leaving behind the sheltering canopies, balconies, and chambers of the tribal lands, you jog a short ways down one smoothed road, beneath another raised one that crosses over it, then turn southward and run full tilt through the open grass toward a nearby hill. Scarcely taking a moment to catch your breath as you scramble up to the top of it, you look down across another expanse of grass, this one massive and dotted with clusters of shrubs and wildflowers.
More relevant to you however is the group of men striding purposely across it, some ways ahead of you.
"Chameek!" you call, cupping your hands over your mouth. "Wait!"
Did one of them hesitate and glance back?
But either they're all too far away to properly hear, or they choose to ignore you, because they just keep walking. You strain your eyes across the distance, trying to identify whether one of the silhouettes might belong to your son. It's clear enough where they're headed; from this height you can easily spot the swath of churned earth a ways beyond them that indicates the presence of the spinning worms.
It finally sinks in that you may already be too late. You're out of breath from your sprint out of the territory, and even if you could catch up with those men and find Chameek among them before they reach the worms, the oldest and strictest tribal laws prevent interfering with Oath takers on their way to the blue fires of Hell.
More relevant to you however is the group of men striding purposely across it, some ways ahead of you.
"Chameek!" you call, cupping your hands over your mouth. "Wait!"
Did one of them hesitate and glance back?
But either they're all too far away to properly hear, or they choose to ignore you, because they just keep walking. You strain your eyes across the distance, trying to identify whether one of the silhouettes might belong to your son. It's clear enough where they're headed; from this height you can easily spot the swath of churned earth a ways beyond them that indicates the presence of the spinning worms.
It finally sinks in that you may already be too late. You're out of breath from your sprint out of the territory, and even if you could catch up with those men and find Chameek among them before they reach the worms, the oldest and strictest tribal laws prevent interfering with Oath takers on their way to the blue fires of Hell.