Book 1 - Chapter 1.2
The road that lead into the town was packed dirt, and there was a stream of people laden with heavy packs making their way along it. Some travellers were dressed in aged leathers, while others in wools and linens, but all were clad for a few days trek on the road. Sol assumed that with so many travellers on their way in, this meant that the town was a regional hub.
Among some of the people on foot was the odd wagon made of thin beaten metal and spoked iron wheels. A couple of these were drawn by a horse, but the smaller ones were pulled by one or two people in front, and all of them packed with goods.
The other travellers cast sideways glances at Sol as she followed them into town, and some of them even moved away from her. She was used to this though, even in her homeland.
Her warm brown skin and dark eyes wouldn't turn many heads back home nor here. Most of the people she passed on the road were themselves a collection of different shades of brown. Her curly golden hair would raise a few eyebrows, but it was not unusual. It wasn't even the fact that she towered over most people at more than two metres tall. What made people stare was the combination of all three traits, and this often made it very difficult for her to stay inconspicuous.
As more people angled away from her on the road, Sol felt even more exposed, and as she arrived at the town's modest wall, she could feel yet more eyes upon her. Sol took a moment to pause at the town's border to see if there was any identifying signs, such as a town name, or a placard that showed the surrounding land. The wall, which was two stories high and made of clay, did have markings etched in it, but Sol couldn't read the language.
There was a large map around the size of a man scraped into the side of the wall that showed what was probably the town, the river next to it, the wharf, and the road she had travelled along. Around the town, in the surrounding plains were small marks that probably represented other towns or villages, some of which had been crossed out.
Sol took out her own map, which she kept tucked inside of her coat, and held it up in comparison to the one on the wall. As much as she checked and double checked she could not place the river or the town, and with no-one on the road stopping to help her, she determined that she would have to get her info past the wall.
Along the entryway that opened into the town there were dark burn marks at about head height. Both edges of the entryway were a solid block of black, as if a great fire has raged through it, but some of the marks that stood out from the large dark smears were in the shape of claws.
Sol's hand went to where she kept her hunting knife strapped around her waist, and she squeezed it for reassurance before she kept going towards the town centre. She hoped that she would be able to find something like a pub or an inn to duck into and gather information. Though the fact that she couldn't read the writing on the wall did not bode well for her knowing the language of the region.
Townspeople stood outside the doorways of their homes and talked quietly with each other as they watched the procession of travellers move along the main road. Some of them waved to a few, who waved back and called out in greeting but continued on.
Sol listened to the words spoken and couldn't place them, which confirmed her worries. But she continued to listen, in hopes that she would hear words that sounded familiar to her, at the very least to cobble together some understanding between her and the people around her. If she could determine the land's root language it would make it easier for her to also place it on her map.
Sol continued to take note of the layout of the town as she ventured deeper in. The buildings were made out of baked brickwork that was likely sourced from the riverbank clay. The ones close to the wall were fairly drab, and lacked artistry. All the windows were crafted out of iron bars and glass, and no building reached above three stories. The place felt like a prison, even though there was no gate keeping people inside or out.
Closer to the centre though the houses were a bit more embellished, but with wrought iron exoskeletons that caged the brickwork in dark beams of metal. The town square was paved with cobblestone, which was an improvement from the dirt road.
The square was full of people, and was the destinations for all the of the travellers from the road. They all stopped to unload their packs and their wagons and added their goods to a growing pile in the town square.
There were vegetables and grains, dried and fresh meats, fish that was being carried up form the wharf, bottles of wine, and jars of preserves. More and more food was added to the centre as if it was a donation pile, or they were all getting ready for a big community feast. But there was no merriment in the eyes of the people laying out the goods. There was a quiet grimness to the task, and they would cast hungry glances at each others' offerings.
If it was preparation for a great feast, Sol hoped that the people there would allow a stranger to join them.
She wandered along the edge of the town square. Taking note of the few shops that were nestled between residential buildings. There was what looked like a butcher, though the window was bare of any meat, and a baker that also didn't have any bread to show.
There was a leather worker, with some goods still displayed in the shop window, and Sol took this to mean that they were open. She reached for the handle of the door only for it to swing open from the other side, with the proprietor, she assumed, looked up at her from inside.
Sol, taking the chance, greeted the small dark man in three different languages, before he bade her move out of his way with a sharp word she didn't know and a wave of his hand. Sol shuffled away from him as he stepped outside, closed the heavy metal door with a "thunk," and locked it. He gave her one quick wary glance and then moved past her to reach for a metal grate, which he pulled across the window of his store and secured in place with a latch.
He then turned away and started walking towards the opposite end of the town square, stopped to look over his shoulder at Sol, who was still standing in front of his shop door, and yelled at her, beckoning to her as if she should follow him.
Sol, thankful that someone was at the very least interacting with her, hurried after him, but after following him halfway across the square he glared over his shoulder and turned to shout at her then dismissed her with a few flicks of his wrist before hurrying away even faster than before.
Sol felt a prickle of embarrassment when she realized that the old man didn't want her following him, but instead just wanted her to get away from his store.
Alone yet again, and now awkwardly in the middle of the square where travellers were still offering food to the pile, Sol looked around for someone who would meet her eye and maybe help her; but none would, and any that did glared at her warningly. She made her way to the edge of the square so as to steady her mind and figure out where to go next, when she about trampled over a shorter person in a cloak who was making their own swift crossing.
"Sorry!" Sol blurted as she stumbled out of the way.
"It's fine." Came a sharp reply from the cloaked figure, who cast one quick look over their shoulder, allowing Sol a half glimpse of their dark brown face and striking bright eyes, but continued swiftly on their way.
Sol stared after the figure in surprise, then yelled "Hey! Wait!" But that only sent them into a run.
Sol made to chase after them, but was shoved aside by a group of townspeople in similar pursuit.
They grunted in annoyance at Sol as they pressed past her, and she noted that one of the men was carrying a large and heavy metal hammer, clenched tight in his fist.
The figure has dashed into a dark alley and the group followed them. Sol, not wanting to lose the only person who seemed to speak a language she understood, followed after.
