Scenes from the City of Sorex

Parva Street.

From the window above his father's workshop Lucas watched the bustling street below. The young Ster never tired of the sights, sounds and smells that passed him by. As far as he was concerned he had the best view in the whole City of Sorex. Below he could see much of the length of Parva Street before it entered the Great Market where merchants plied their trades, selling goods from across the whole of the island, and in many stalls, from further afield. Over it all he could watch the pennants flutter over the towers of the Blarina, the palace of the Barons of Araneus. His heart swelled with simple pride at the thought that not only did he look up, but that the Baron looked benevolently down, upon him, watchful and protective.

He watched the ever-moving crowd. Many wore brightly coloured tabards, in a blaze of colours and patterns, distinguishing their allegiances to the greater and lesser patrons whose strange purposes were lost on the young Ster. There were many of his people, of all ages, from wizened matrons to mewling infants, smiling minstrels and sober artisans, all going about their business or play. Here and there Lucas caught sight of the occasional smaller, sharp-nosed Shrewd, here darting amongst the crowd or there sheltering briefly from the press, nose wrinkling and circular glass spectacles glinting in the sunlight. But still, they were normal - surely there must something bigger around today! There nearly always was, although sometimes you had to search.

Craning his neck to look up the street Lucas thought he could see a much larger creature approaching. Would it be a Stag? The thought filled him with excitement, for although they were not that uncommon he found them both intriguing and a little frightening. Part of him thrilled that it might even be a Wolf, a rare and fearsome visitor, even as another part of him, hidden deep within his brain, screamed and told him to hide. What would it be today? A Stag? A Wolf? Even a Boar?

He never did find out. His mother's cry from below, “Lucas, lunch!” broke his chain of thought. Reluctantly the young Ster turned away, left his viewpoint, and trailed obediently to the table. But that was the beauty of his window: there would always be something wonderful to see when he returned.

EV: The city almost seems alive! I would love to do the picture of Lucas looking out the workshop's window into the busy streets of Sorex!

Street Level

Tithius stepped smartly aside from the throng into a doorway and surveyed the scene on Parva Street. To the casual eye there was nothing unusual going on, and indeed from the viewpoint of the average Ster that was the case. He tried not to let prejudice colour his thoughts, after all the Ster were so likeable and made such good company: easy-going, amiable and good-humoured. But by the Sky Lords, they're so dull! They laugh about our poor sight, but they really see nothing of the real world! By 'real' Tithius meant the magical world, as did any half-decent Shrewd Mage, and Tithius was one of the best in Sorex.

To his eyes there was so much more to the crowded street. He could see the cutpurses, looking for the easy money, as well as the wide-eyed innocents in from the country. Lucky for you that most Sters are such warm-hearted folks he thought with a smile. At the traders' tables he could see the not-so-subtle signs of magical assaying, testing the purity of the goods, or enhancing the eloquence of the buyer in attempts to get a better deal. He could see the pox-raddled tarts, working the crowd for clients and the false bravado of the young adult Sters who traded jibes and jests. Among the mewling and running infants, moving among the tails of the crowd, he could see those at play, and those lost, and the ones who would never see their parents this night or ever again.

This though, this was simply normal. Drawing on the least trace of Cerulite Tithius could see so much more. The evasions and deceits, almost the hopes and the dreams. He could even detect, way out of his sight, the burning mind of the approaching Wolf and her focus upon her messenger's mission, and fleetingly, something of her feelings at being despatched to this "land of prey." Tithius smiled thinly. Watching that one could be quite entertaining... and informative. What worried him more was something closer to claw. Most Ster never knew, they never even suspected, the abilities of the Shrewd, and there were many of these, many of which simply came from the oft-neglected truth that the Shrewd were flesheaters, or could be should they so choose.

Tithius' trained eye could see what the Ster missed, for among them moved hidden Shrewd, appearing for all the world like ordinary Ster. It was one of the simplest of incantations, to project the appearance as prey, and very common. Among the crowd Tithius could see that at least one in twenty was actually a Shrewd, masked by magic. That wasn't a problem, although if the Sters ever discovered then it might become one. For himself Tithius had never bothered. The problem was one particular Shrewd. Simeonis. Holy Shard, what are you doing here? There, scurrying amongst the crowd was the source of his concern. A Shrewd who owed service to no patron. A Shrewd whose power rivalled his own and who had been exiled a claw's worth of years ago. A Shrewd projecting not as a Ster, but as another lesser Shrewd in the service of a lesser patron.

Wheels within wheels thought Tithius. He suppressed a shudder. Perhaps the time has come to call in a few favours... and to find a few new allies.