Post by Seek on Apr 3, 2015 4:37:25 GMT 10
Series: A Pale View of Hills
Title: Barricades
Rating: PG-13
Event: 400 Word Cross Country
Competition: Decathlon
Words: 400 words
Summary: Mattes's first riot happens when news of Queen Alysy's death spreads through the city like wildfire.
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It was raining; a welcome shift from the torrid summer’s heat, but that did nothing for tempers. The mood of the crowd had started sullen and taken a turn for the worse with the day, escalating into outright defiance. Mattes lifted the light rectangular shield before him, just in time to deflect a few thrown rocks. The jeers and curses, he couldn’t do anything about.
“I hate the Lower City,” Asif swore, in his accented Common. One of the straps of his helm was loose and the rim kept slipping down over an eyebrow. “Whatever possessed these Tortallans to build a street so narrow?” He gazed at the hastily-erected barricades of solid, broken-up furniture with a keen distaste. “They could defend these with just five men, and we’d never break through.”
“Don’t say ‘you Tortallans’,” retorted Olvers. She dodged neatly out of the way of some rotten fruit. “You’re both honorary Tortallans, now.”
“Show-off,” Sera, her partner, muttered.
“An honour I’d proudly decline,” said Asif. “I don’t particularly want to be implicated by relation in this madness.”
Beneath their light-hearted words lay fear. The runners from Jane Street had informed them that the riots were spreading through Corus like wildfire. The Dogs were too thinly spread-out to put down the riot, and none of them were fool enough to rush the barricades. Packs of men and women, armed with meathooks and butcher’s knives and rocks and spears were barricading the city, and word was that they intended to march on the palace. Mattes could’ve sworn they’d hated the Tortallan Queen a week ago, but a week ago, she hadn’t been dead, and there hadn’t been rumours that the king had her poisoned.
There was no sign that the crowd intended to peacefully disperse. Instead, the numbers behind the barricades seemed to be increasing, and the rain had not dampened the dark mood. Asif and Mattes exchanged worried looks, but there seemed to be little they could do.
“Anyone want to ask them to go away?” Asif murmured, quietly. “I hate the rain.”
“Why don’t you try?” Mattes whispered, out of the corner of his mouth.
“Who says I didn’t?”
“Maybe you’re not asking polite enough for these Tortallans.”
“You think?”
They grinned; weary, stretched grins. Loose cobblestones smashed into their upraised shields, almost threatening to wrench Mattes’s from his grasp. At least, thought Mattes, no one was throwing chamberpots. Yet.
Title: Barricades
Rating: PG-13
Event: 400 Word Cross Country
Competition: Decathlon
Words: 400 words
Summary: Mattes's first riot happens when news of Queen Alysy's death spreads through the city like wildfire.
-
It was raining; a welcome shift from the torrid summer’s heat, but that did nothing for tempers. The mood of the crowd had started sullen and taken a turn for the worse with the day, escalating into outright defiance. Mattes lifted the light rectangular shield before him, just in time to deflect a few thrown rocks. The jeers and curses, he couldn’t do anything about.
“I hate the Lower City,” Asif swore, in his accented Common. One of the straps of his helm was loose and the rim kept slipping down over an eyebrow. “Whatever possessed these Tortallans to build a street so narrow?” He gazed at the hastily-erected barricades of solid, broken-up furniture with a keen distaste. “They could defend these with just five men, and we’d never break through.”
“Don’t say ‘you Tortallans’,” retorted Olvers. She dodged neatly out of the way of some rotten fruit. “You’re both honorary Tortallans, now.”
“Show-off,” Sera, her partner, muttered.
“An honour I’d proudly decline,” said Asif. “I don’t particularly want to be implicated by relation in this madness.”
Beneath their light-hearted words lay fear. The runners from Jane Street had informed them that the riots were spreading through Corus like wildfire. The Dogs were too thinly spread-out to put down the riot, and none of them were fool enough to rush the barricades. Packs of men and women, armed with meathooks and butcher’s knives and rocks and spears were barricading the city, and word was that they intended to march on the palace. Mattes could’ve sworn they’d hated the Tortallan Queen a week ago, but a week ago, she hadn’t been dead, and there hadn’t been rumours that the king had her poisoned.
There was no sign that the crowd intended to peacefully disperse. Instead, the numbers behind the barricades seemed to be increasing, and the rain had not dampened the dark mood. Asif and Mattes exchanged worried looks, but there seemed to be little they could do.
“Anyone want to ask them to go away?” Asif murmured, quietly. “I hate the rain.”
“Why don’t you try?” Mattes whispered, out of the corner of his mouth.
“Who says I didn’t?”
“Maybe you’re not asking polite enough for these Tortallans.”
“You think?”
They grinned; weary, stretched grins. Loose cobblestones smashed into their upraised shields, almost threatening to wrench Mattes’s from his grasp. At least, thought Mattes, no one was throwing chamberpots. Yet.