Firmament

Rynh

Where are we?

A raucous noise erupts from the inner city, carrying itself over the dusty streets and buildings that surround Mico.

The city of Rynh burgeons from its stadium. It's all that was really left after the plague, and from it the fibrous streets of the city extend. Mico can't help but think of it like the city's heart. It's what keeps people coming to the city, drawing them in like blood, twice every year when the championship passes through. And you could always see it over the buildings no matter where you stood, huge and stationary in the distance.

Mico's only been in Rynh a couple weeks, on a temporary contract for guardwork. Normally they prefer manual labour jobs; hauling, construction, farmwork. But Rynh needs more guards while the championship passes through, and it's good pay.

What does it look like?

Looking toward the city centre, Mico almost gets the image of coral clinging to the walls of the stadium --- squarish towers in varying shades of yellow limestone, spotted with lichen and steepled with sunburnt roofs reflecting the red afternoon light.

But out here, where Mico is keeping watch? The Sprawl is a place of decay. Dusty and sun-soaked, the remains of old buildings are coated in temporary, slum houses made of tarp and corrugated metal. Grains of sand build up on your skin and hair, in the gaps between your fingers. And you can taste the rust like blood in your mouth.

What's Mico thinking about?

It's lonely out here. The dirt roads are well-worn but empty with everyone at the stadium. All the while, Mico stands apart, watching over no-one, waiting for the time to pass. A noise, too distorted to be called a cheer, arrives from the stadium. At least this time they have an excuse for needing to leave the city. There's no-one in Rynh who sells Renthenol, and by last count, Mico only had spare for three weeks.

But that's nothing new; Mico's life has been like this for a long, long time; itinerantly moving from city to city, all across the Toreigne. And they've come to be content with it, with drifting, and making do, and trying to help if possible where they can. Trying to make sure their net impact on the world is positive before they eventually go. Mico sighs. It is lonely out here, indeed.

---

Of course that's just the first half of Mico's shift. Past six, the games end and the sprawl becomes crowded and overbearing once again. Mico really doesn't like the noise (or the smell) of the hundreds of drunk city goers. They're in the middle of breaking up a fight between two guys arguing over --- actually, Mico can't really tell what they're fighting over, and that fact, on top of Mico being the shortest of the three, is making it very difficult to remediate. Mico's exhausted, and they're finding it simultaneously too dark and too bright, and they're trying to ignore the curling headache behind their eyes.

Eventually, they find a brief window of time to duck into one of the emptier alleys and catch their breath. The alley's mostly empty, but for a group of four around a campfire deeper in.

"It's okay." Mico mutters shakily as they sit down. "Just two more hours. Just push through. Maybe the next city is better. Or something---God, what am I even doing?" They swallow hard, and look up.

Mico: Perception Check

2d6 = 8

+1 Judge of Character (Mico)

+1 Bloodhound (Mico)

= 9 (Partial Success)

It's not a group of four, actually. Three of them are definitely together, but the other, who looks maybe only fifteen or sixteen --- roughly Mico's age --- stands pinned against the wall.

"I mean, I mean, I didn't mean anything by it, golly. I was just looking for-"

"Save your fuckin' stories kid," says the woman pinning him, "I don't see what makes a little twerp believe-"

"No, no, I swears, I'm not from around here, I didn't-"

"He ought to know his fuckin' place," she turns back to her companions. "Shouldn't he?"

Pushing back the headache, Mico steps in and coughs, weakly. Four faces turn on him. "Um. Is there a problem here?"

The woman lets go of the boy quickly. "No, officer. Nothing at all. We were just having a friendly chat."

The boy runs to Mico's side.

"I see."

There's a silence. Mico speaks again.

"Then, if it's alright, I think I'll escort this young man somewhere safe."

"Mmm. For the best, officer."