20 YMIDEN, 719 ‣ NORTHERN FORTRESS RUINS
In harsh rays of golden sunlight, the dust and debris formerly known as the Northern Fortress hung heavy in the air. Ymiden in the Hotlands was always hot, but the disturbance of the sands and destroyed stone structures only worsened the dryness of it all. A steady gust of wind had found its rhythm beating against the rightmost wall of the destroyed fortress, but whether it was more beneficial in the heat or detrimental for their continued well-being, that was... unclear. What was clear, however, was the tension that had unrolled over the area, and blanketed both Imperial and Nasha forces in its wave.
Stepping back into sight from behind a mostly-unharmed pillar of stone, a human by the name of Melek nodded towards the center of the area. It was still partially covered, though much of the stone structure had crumbled and fallen around it, and a place had been made for temporary care of other soldiers wounded in the previous tentrials' fights. Imperial and Nasha soldiers alike were there, left mostly unconscious as fevers took hold. It would be a while still before they returned to their homes, if they were lucky enough to leave the ruins of the fortress at all.
"They say if we were looking for anything specific?"
"Just supplies, I don't know."
As if a layer of dust coated his sore throat, Saza Moshe's accented voice carried an uncharacteristic rasp, and dragged uncomfortably over his words. The biqaj offered a shrug when Melek's gaze failed to leave him. The two had broken off from their main group only recently, after one of the medics had requested that they sweep the area in search of... medical supplies? Saza didn't know much about what counted as medical supplies, but he sure wasn't finding anything useful.
He kicked at a smaller chunk of stone. Dust and sand were stirred beneath his heavy boots. The broken stone hit against the wall with a sudden thud, but neither Saza nor Melek bothered to glance at the sound. Too much noise surrounded the fortress in the form of voices, movement, heavy armor, heavy boots. It was a wonder to him, still, that he had managed to sleep within the same collapsing structure as the Imperial soldiers they had been warring with only trials before - but ignoring the hateful glares shot his way by most of them he'd met, it wasn't all that bad.
Comparatively.
After ensuring Melek that he would be alright on his own, and sending the human back to the more populated center of the fortress, Saza disappeared from his immediate view. He moved quickly, his long-legged pace brisk. He passed crumbling walls, stepped over dented, discarded weapons left to only gather dust, and ducked beneath the remnants of a stone archway to finally get outside. He didn't go far, but lingered close to weakened and crumbling fortress walls.
Saza pulled in a deep breath. Hot and dry, like always, the air filled his lungs and left him with the familiar scent of disturbed sand and stone.
"Needed a break already?"
The curly-haired biqaj turned on his heels at the sound. A man stared back at him - if an ithecal could have been considered such a thing - from the wall, leaned against the stone with his arms crossed loosely over his armored chest. In his shadow, a human smirked at his companion's comment. In spite of their obvious attitude towards the Nasha, Saza could tell that both men were just as exhausted as he was.
Saza's blue gaze shifted in hue, until a narrowed set of blood-orange eyes watched the Imperials at the wall.
"Uh, yeah," was all he gave, uncertain as he was about the two. The peace between soldiers in the ruined fortress was an uneasy one, and not one that Saza cared to test.
Still the Imperials moved forward, pushing out of the shadows at the wall and approaching the biqaj. Only the ithecal stood taller than him, though the grizzled human made up for his lacking height in the broadness of his chest.
As they neared, the human asked, "Moshe, right?"
"You're the one that stopped that little... argument, this morning, aren't you?" the ithecal chipped in.
Now that he had a better look at the green-scaled creature, Saza recognized him as the one that had instigated said argument. He had also received the harsher punishment, for having attempted to start a fight with the Nasha group. With a grimace, the youth raised a hand and started to step away. "Listen, uh, I didn't -"
The human's calloused hand shot out and grabbed him before he could get any farther. Short, stubby fingers clung tightly to the collar of his uniform, nearly choking him as it pressed a curve against his throat. No allowance was made for reaction nor retaliation; a hard fist connected with his nose within trills and sent him stumbling to the ground.
"Ah fuck!" Saza cursed, his expression soured with pain. He made no attempt to lift himself from where he'd fallen. A hand lifted to touch his injured nose, but blood already dripped downward and dappled his freckled skin. It shimmered in the sun, colored silver as it started to drip faster. Groaning, he gave up on stopping the flow of silver blood and instead moved to shuffle backwards and away from the Imperials. While the ithecal merely watched, the human laughed, and reached down to grab at the Nasha's shirt.
Stepping back into sight from behind a mostly-unharmed pillar of stone, a human by the name of Melek nodded towards the center of the area. It was still partially covered, though much of the stone structure had crumbled and fallen around it, and a place had been made for temporary care of other soldiers wounded in the previous tentrials' fights. Imperial and Nasha soldiers alike were there, left mostly unconscious as fevers took hold. It would be a while still before they returned to their homes, if they were lucky enough to leave the ruins of the fortress at all.
"They say if we were looking for anything specific?"
"Just supplies, I don't know."
As if a layer of dust coated his sore throat, Saza Moshe's accented voice carried an uncharacteristic rasp, and dragged uncomfortably over his words. The biqaj offered a shrug when Melek's gaze failed to leave him. The two had broken off from their main group only recently, after one of the medics had requested that they sweep the area in search of... medical supplies? Saza didn't know much about what counted as medical supplies, but he sure wasn't finding anything useful.
He kicked at a smaller chunk of stone. Dust and sand were stirred beneath his heavy boots. The broken stone hit against the wall with a sudden thud, but neither Saza nor Melek bothered to glance at the sound. Too much noise surrounded the fortress in the form of voices, movement, heavy armor, heavy boots. It was a wonder to him, still, that he had managed to sleep within the same collapsing structure as the Imperial soldiers they had been warring with only trials before - but ignoring the hateful glares shot his way by most of them he'd met, it wasn't all that bad.
Comparatively.
After ensuring Melek that he would be alright on his own, and sending the human back to the more populated center of the fortress, Saza disappeared from his immediate view. He moved quickly, his long-legged pace brisk. He passed crumbling walls, stepped over dented, discarded weapons left to only gather dust, and ducked beneath the remnants of a stone archway to finally get outside. He didn't go far, but lingered close to weakened and crumbling fortress walls.
Saza pulled in a deep breath. Hot and dry, like always, the air filled his lungs and left him with the familiar scent of disturbed sand and stone.
"Needed a break already?"
The curly-haired biqaj turned on his heels at the sound. A man stared back at him - if an ithecal could have been considered such a thing - from the wall, leaned against the stone with his arms crossed loosely over his armored chest. In his shadow, a human smirked at his companion's comment. In spite of their obvious attitude towards the Nasha, Saza could tell that both men were just as exhausted as he was.
Saza's blue gaze shifted in hue, until a narrowed set of blood-orange eyes watched the Imperials at the wall.
"Uh, yeah," was all he gave, uncertain as he was about the two. The peace between soldiers in the ruined fortress was an uneasy one, and not one that Saza cared to test.
Still the Imperials moved forward, pushing out of the shadows at the wall and approaching the biqaj. Only the ithecal stood taller than him, though the grizzled human made up for his lacking height in the broadness of his chest.
As they neared, the human asked, "Moshe, right?"
"You're the one that stopped that little... argument, this morning, aren't you?" the ithecal chipped in.
Now that he had a better look at the green-scaled creature, Saza recognized him as the one that had instigated said argument. He had also received the harsher punishment, for having attempted to start a fight with the Nasha group. With a grimace, the youth raised a hand and started to step away. "Listen, uh, I didn't -"
The human's calloused hand shot out and grabbed him before he could get any farther. Short, stubby fingers clung tightly to the collar of his uniform, nearly choking him as it pressed a curve against his throat. No allowance was made for reaction nor retaliation; a hard fist connected with his nose within trills and sent him stumbling to the ground.
"Ah fuck!" Saza cursed, his expression soured with pain. He made no attempt to lift himself from where he'd fallen. A hand lifted to touch his injured nose, but blood already dripped downward and dappled his freckled skin. It shimmered in the sun, colored silver as it started to drip faster. Groaning, he gave up on stopping the flow of silver blood and instead moved to shuffle backwards and away from the Imperials. While the ithecal merely watched, the human laughed, and reached down to grab at the Nasha's shirt.