Arabel: Everlasting Inspiration

[DOT]

ARABEL'S EVERLASTING INSPIRATION




Arabel is... was very much a city under siege. The recent 'pause' with the local orc tribe has given the the city a sense of alert silence.

Could this be considered peace... or perhaps the calm before the storm? Some citizens of the kingdom have taken it upon themselves to capitalize on this turn of events.

Chell is one such person, his eye on the ruins of the Temple of Milil. 

Reconstruction is no small task... perhaps there are others that might aid in his endeavor... so begins another chapter in the City of Caravans.



Where it will go can only depend on this who might drive the tale. The burden of progress can only be carried upon their shoulders. 

[nemusator]

Sun raises itself above mountains, grabbing its tips with its rays as with fingers. It splashes warm shades of molten gold over the stony pavement of Arabel, it sparks on dark windows, reflects from shiny turrets and awakens chirping of various birds... Aromatic scent of fresh fruits being uncovered, as a theatrical curtain reveals a play to come, clanking of various soles, rustling of fabric, rattling of wheels... Arabel market comes to life... Birds get chirped away by loud, boisterous shouts, scents of fruit, meat, people and city itself mix together, song of working tools and occasional strike of the bell, loud then fading, takes place instead.

With one swift move Chell removes the blanket, gets up, stretches carefully, holding a pose with an awkward grimace for a moment. He then yawns, and slowly walks to a thin line of light on his tent. He reaches hand in between and pulls one end to the side, squinting then closing his eyes and smiling as he feels warmth on the sun on his face and sees the rosy interior of his eyelids. He observes an imprinted darker version of scenery he saw before he closed his eyes, fading away on the canvas of his eyelids.
He then opens them and rubs his hands eagerly. A new working day, he says and nods to himself watching the South wall, gate and buildings raising above. He starts walking down, whistling a merry tune, with cheeks puffed and mustache swaying like a see saw.
He wonders will anyone show up anytime soon as he passes by and greets familiar faces on his way to the temple of Millil.