Khord awoke to a when a sharp pain collided with his side. He yanked the heavy wool blanket from his face. Apparently, at some point, he had cocooned himself in it. He took a deep, fresh breath and looked around. The caravan owner stood over him, standing in the cart that Khord had fallen asleep in. His hands were on his hips, and he may have been frowning—Khord couldn't tell due to the massive beard that consumed the lower half of the man's face.
"Stop snoring," the carvan master said. "You're scaring the children." He pointed to young siblings that were standing a few feet away from him. One was a blonde haired girl with a rosy complexion. She held her doll lazily at her side. The other was a young boy with unruly, brown hair and a wooden sword in his hand.
"We weren't scared," the boy said.
"We were pretending you were a big, scary bear," the girl said.
"It wasn't that hard. You sound like a bear" The boy pointed his sword at Khord. "I was going to slay you."
The caravan master shrugged. "We're here, anyway. Your service are no longer required." The man hopped off the card and disappeared into the streets of Kayio. The buildings around Khord reached up like fingers from the earth. Noise penetrated everything. He was used to the quiet of the desert and the dryness. His blonde mane was exceptionally wild this day.
Khord stood, the cart shifting at the movement, and started gather his things. The kids sighed. He cleared his throat and let out a somewhat nasty growl. It was punctuated by the children's laughter and the boy poking Khord in the stomach.
"Oh no," Khord said. "I have been felled." His voice was tinged with a heavy accent.
The boy smiled. "And I collect your head and pelt as a reward. They shall decorate my room for years to come."
"Oh," the girl said, "and what of his innards? They shall feed families! And we will fashion weapons from his bones!"
Khord blanched. "And I was scary one. Right."
He slid his belongings back into his pack and shouldered it. He then holstered his large axe and jumped down from the cart. The caravan master's wife waited for him. She was as round and red as an apple and just as sweet. She slid his payment into his hand with a gentle pat.
"You've done well," she said.
"I did very little," Khord said
"I believe it was more your presence than your actions."
"Because I was bear?"
"A bear with an axe is truly a frightening sight." The woman laughed softly before her face became sullen. "Good luck on your journey and be careful. We've been hearing rumors about something going on around the docks. No one has said anything of interest, but there has been chatter."
Khord pocketed the money and nodded. "Thank you," he said, giving the old woman a kiss on the forehead before leaving.
Usually, Khord didn't hire himself out, but he didn't really have any other trades to rely on. He didn't view himself as a mercenary. No, he had a purpose beyond accruing money. The money just helped him stay afloat. These places were not what he grew up with. It wasn't that Sahra was so different, the civilization there mirrored the civilization everywhere. It was just that his tribe had been so different. The storytellers would always fashion stories as to why, but they changed frequently. Maybe it was because they enjoyed being insulated from this sort of world where trust didn't come easy. Who knew? Khord didn't, and thinking on it usually gave him a headache. What Khord did know was that he had nowhere to return to. It was sad, but it was true.
He listened to conversation as he moved along the streets. Everything was over-busy, but he heard quickly enough that the summit between countries was being held here. Ah, politics. Khord knew nothing of that, and he liked it that way. Men that never had to prove themselves once in their lives decided how everyone else lived. It was pathetic.
Despite the woman's warning, Khord made his way to the docks. He was curious. While he was far from the most intelligent person, it didn't take a scholar to assume that the problem at the docks were probably tied with the summit. Maybe he could find more work. While he didn't like the notion of moving from one job to another—it was something. And he really needed that something.
Flying beasts circled overhead, the crowd yawned into the docks. A mixture of confusion and panic hung in the air. Khord felt more in the way than anything. He was about to turn away when he saw a young woman perched on the roof. She looked familiar. She was Sahran, that was obvious, but the familiarity ran deeper than that. He remembered the sky and her painted against it like a shadow, much like she was now. But that couldn't be it. The girl in his memory had wings. She did not. Also, she was conversing with an elderly gentlemen, he'd best not interrupt for a trivial question.
In his reminiscing he ran right into a young woman carrying a handful of medicinal supplies. She gasped and nearly dropped them. She looked up and over Khord.
"I don't know how I missed you," she said. That was fair, he wasn't very… inconspicuous.
"Apologies," he said. "I was being more in the way than helpful. I shall go now."
"Actually," the woman said, reaching towards him. "I need someone to hold these thing while I work on my patients." She opened her arms, and he scooped up the medicinal supplies. There were a lot of bottles, wrappings, and other things he couldn't identify.
"Ah, because I am not person but table."
The woman motioned him forward. She was a small, petite thing, but the crowd parted before her. It was strange to see a healer have so much power. "What's your name?" She asked. "I'm Juliet."
"Khord," he said, hanging onto the supplies in a tight grip. Some of the bottles rubbed against this hard armor, but nothing came ajar and nothing fell.
"Like the object or like the musical note?" She asked. "How is it spelled?"
"With letters, like all other names."
Juliet laughed. "Oh, this one has a mouth on him."
"I would think so. All people have mouths. How else do they eat and drink?"
Juliet passed through a set of guards, Khord in tow. They gave him a stern look but said nothing. The docks were a mess. Khord couldn't even begin to describe the chaos around him. He didn't know much of the sea or its vessels. What he did know was there were a lot of wounded, and they were not being treated fast enough. Juliet squatted in front of a man and quickly grabbed things from Khord's arms. He was taller and larger than most that made their way through the sea of injured, and he was able to get a good look at the discord around him.
"What happened?" he asked.
Juliet was busy applying balm to her patient. "I don't know. I can assume, though, that it had a lot to do with one person's greed being larger than the consideration of lives."
Khord snorted. "Your kind are high and mighty. You have your laws and your houses. But they're just cages for rabid animals. Animals don't care for cage. Animals enjoy showing that."
Juliet looked at him for a moment before wrapping her patient's arm in thin canvase. "Maybe," she said. "But why are wild animals better?"
"Because Nature teaches them. Teaches them their place. It tells them when they do wrong. It makes sure they know. Violence is not nature. Death is nature. Sometime peaceful. Sometime violent. Never out of greed."
Juliet sighed. "You're a bit philosophical for someone that I assumed had nothing but muscles for a brain."
Khord blinked. "Wait. What are brains if not muscle? That is what is under skin, yes?"
Juliet laughed. She finished on that patient and move towards another. She motion for him to follow.
He sighed. He better get paid for this.
