Equus, The City On A Hill

[brian 333]

Based on this topic the following setting came to mind:

On the coast of a sea is a port town which connects by road to the great city Equus which dominates the crown of a tall hill behind the bay. The town itself is almost entirely devoted to the trade entering and leaving the city.

The crown of the hill is a large plaza backed by the Senate building, a massive pink and brown granite structure designed to impress. In the exact center of the plaza is a 20' raised dias known as the Stage. Around the plaza merchants use carts, wagons, and board stalls to display and hawk their wares.

Opposite the Senate is the gate to the port, which also serves as the residence of the city's Commandant at Arms, leader of the constabulary and militia, and chief executive officer of the city's administration. To the right of the plaza is the University of Equus, where the intelligencia of many lands come to learn, and to the left is the Temple of Dremis, goddess of Mind, whose symbol is the olive tree, thousands of which are planted in the city, and whose favored animal is the honeybee, a giant variety of which is common to the region.

Three main roads and many smaller ones converge on the plaza. The city is built on a series of concentric roads and radial lanes connecting homes with shops and industries. The primary trades are olives and olive oils, wines, woolen textiles, and metal, wood and stonework.

The city walls enclose about six square miles, and are about forty feet tall. Every 100 yards around the wall is a drum tower of about 80 feet in diameter. Their flat tops are 40 feet above the tops of the walls. Between these towers, the walls project outward to points, giving each tower a triangular field flanked by two walls within bowshot of each other. The courtyards of these triangular defenses have catapult platforms, though only about thirty catapults actually occupy points scattered around the city.

The city is longer than it is wide, occupying the ridgeline of its hill. Some roads are steep, and require broad, shallow stairs and occasional level landings in the steepest grades. From the port the city appears to be about four miles from left to right with the gate facing the port, and the city's administrative complex, being centered along this length. The walls taper to points at each end, where smaller gate defense complexes are built.

Within the city, single and two-story homes are built of stonework, mud-bricks covered in plaster, or mud-and-straw walls reinforced with wood beam framing. The style is copied by businesses which front the main thoroughfares, having an open central courtyard surrounded by partitioned rooms which open into the courtyard. Any interior walls are typically windowed, but only a very few exterior walls have small windows built high up near the eaves. The wealthy have courtyard fountains, the middle class have rainwater catch basins which trap the rain which falls on their inward-sloping roofs, and the poor have access to public fountains, pools, and wells.

Between the city wall and the warehouses of the port, a checkerboard of five to ten acre plots are marked out by fieldstone walls and hedgerows. Narrow cart roads are arrayed in grid-patterns which follow the contours of the lands. These little farms have small cots occasionally, but more often have only toolshed and storage cribs. A wide variety of vegetables appear to be the principal crop, apparently intended for local consumption. The roughly four mile by ten mile region is divided into smaller plots nearest the port road, with larger fields farther from the city.

To the city's left, as seen from the port, hills rise toward mountains. Along the coast a coastal plain is sandwiched between coastal hills and these mountains. The city's road wends this way, bisecting the long, narrow valley in which grain fields rotate with cattle. Large walled farm buildings cluster every mile or so along the road, becoming less frequent, less clustered, and smaller for the next twenty miles or so, untill the road passes through Resenoe, an agricultural village. This village links to a road leading into the mountains, and facilitates the trade in building and decorative stone. Several small-scale mines extract iron ore, but the real source of metals is the dwarf kingdom at the far end of the mountain pass.

To the city's right, as seen from the port, the terrain slopes down and into a woodland which has been partitioned into a variety of agricultural purposes. Large scale farms, wood-lots and tree farms, orchards, and vineyards line the road leading away from the city. At about fourteen miles from the city, a wooden town surrounded by a log palisade serves as caravan way station and local trade hub. Bantar quadruples in population in the summer as traders come from distant lands to barter for centaur goods.

Behind the city, hidden from view from the port, three massive aquaducts from the distant hills and mountains cross the deep valleys to serve the city. The tops of these structures serve as canals which allow small barges designed for them to transport goods from the hills into the city. The hillsides in this region are dominated by vineyards. The hilltops are covered in olive orchards. The densely wooded valley bottoms serve a variety of purposes, including being dammed to create fish-ponds, often fed with food-scraps from the city.

The dominant species in this region is centaur, comprising over 80% of the local population and 90% of the population of the city itself. Although accessible by smaller races, the city and the vast majority of structures in the region are built to the centaur's scale. Humans and other races used to structures built at their own scale often underestimate the distance to centaur structures because single story buildings commonly have twelve-foot high ceilings, or one-and-a-half times the height of human dwellings. This causes them to appear closer than they really are.

Centaur physical characteristics:

Centaurs look like horses with human torsos grafted onto their shoulders, but they are neither horses nor humans. Centaur jaws are proportionally larger than humans, and their noses more prominent, which causes their eyes to appear smaller and spaced farther apart even though they are proportionally the same as smaller human eyes. Centaur shoulders are on the wide side of the human scale, with a more muscular appearance. Their arms are long enough to allow a centaur standing up straight to touch his forelegs just below their shoulders, which is proportional to a human's reach, but which appears longer due to their skinny forelegs. Their horse body is similar enough to a horse that it needs no description, except that they range in size from American mustang to German draft horse. Their coloration is also diverse.

The organs in their human torsos are unlike those of a human. The first difference is their lungs. These have been replace by a pair of bronchial pumps. The centaur windpipe divides into two, then expands into this pair of bellows-pumps which serves to assist the lungs with breathing. At rest, these pumps alternate, creating a circular flow of air through the bronchial tubes to to the true lungs, which allows easier breathing through otherwise constricted airways. In action situations these pumps work simultaneously to increase intake pressure and exhalation volume in the true lungs.

The heart is located between the lungs, and is larger than a horse's. In the human torso the first stomache, which also has characteristics of a gizzard, begins primary digestion and pumps food to the second stomache. Aside from the various digestive enzyme glands, few other organs occupy the human torso.

Two aspects of this physiology are sometimes disconcerting to humans: centaurs appear not to breathe, and centaurs appear to be pot-bellied for an hour or so after a meal.

Centaurs eat five times a day when they can, and colts and fillies are seldom seen without a snack in hand.

Centaurs sleep four hours in the night, usually in a crouched position with the human torso lying prone foreward of the horse body. The very young often lay sprawled out when asleep, and older centaurs can sleep standing. This sleep-time is augmented by close to hour-long naps after meals. (Youths skip their naps in favor of play with their peers, while young adults tend to quieter social activities.) At need, centaurs can go without sleep for three or more days. (Rest rules still apply.)

Centaur society:

The local centaur population is divided into three dominant cultures: the city dwellers, the farmers, and the nomadic herders.

The city dwellers are laborers, skilled craftsmen, and professionals whose young attend schools and take on apprenticeships. Literacy is expected, and while one must pay for schooling, (parents share the expense of their children's teachers' salaries,) the incentives in increased earning power and prestige make such investments worthwhile. Subsidies, stipends, and housing are often granted to teachers who choose to work in the poorer areas, but even these schools charge token fees to insure the students and their families work hard at their studies. Most can, with dedication and work ethic, advance to the top tiers of their profession no matter where they begin their climb.

Farmers farm. Whether grapes, carrots, or veal, there is a strong cultural identity and social bond which sets farmers apart. It is not a rigid caste into which one is born, although there are hereditary links. Rather, it is a common point of pride, reinforced by the respect of non-farmers, which sets farmers apart.

Although there is no political authority associated with it, farmers are treated as humans would treat nobility. They are held to a higher moral standard, and are believed to be the ideal of what it means to be a centaur: independent, self sufficient, hard-working, and reliable. Farmers are living embodiments of what centaurs want to be. Many City dwellers try to become farmers, and some succeed. Nomadic herders often hire on as shepherds and cowpokes, and some become pastoralists. And in every generation, there are the young born to the farm life who either do not fit in, or who dream of bigger things. There is no social stigma against those who leave the farm life.

Nomadic herders follow the life cycle of their herds. Goats, sheep, deer, cattle, or virtually any other cloven-footed herbivore are protected and guided on their annual migrations. Animals with a single toe, or with pads on their feet are excluded by taboo. Swine herders are considered by other herders as coarse and low-class, but this does not translate into their interactions with the other cultures.

Herders live day to day by subsistence hunting and gathering. Their seasonal bounty affords them the opportunity to trade in the villages and towns, and some see the benefits of civilized life. Occasionally, young of the other cultures yearn for the freedom of the nomadic lifestyle.

As herders get older, they tend to remain in seasonal camps which move only a few times a year, leaving the younger centaurs to guard and guide the herds. While In these camps they work to card wool, tan hides, preserve foods, and do the work required to insure the band has the provisions to survive and the trade goods to thrive.

Nomadic herders live where their herds live, from alpine slopes just beneath the ice capped peaks to lowland river banks. Following the migrations of these herds allows them to forage without damaging the local ecosystems.

Centaur culture:

The central ideal of all centaur societies is individual independence, self-sufficiency, and personal responsibility. For those using an alignment system, centaur societies tend toward Chaotic Good, with City dwellers trending to Neutral Good. This does not mean that individuals must adhere to any specific alignment, but that the cultural ideals, fables, and mores exemplify the CG alignment. How closely one follows this ideal is another issue, though most do try to live up to it.

The veneration of Dremis is almost universal among the centaurs. She is Mother of the Centaurs, after all, and her dogma emphasizes the virtues of centaur values.

Her clergy leads by example. Rare among established religions, the temple does not accept donations. Instead, centaurs are encouraged to aid others in paying for education, medicine, and emergency expenses. A fable demonstrates that it is better to help a struggling neighbor with time and work than with money, and donations of work are common forms of tithing to Dremis.

Her clergy is expected to pay their own way through their own efforts. Donations of wealth cannot be accepted except when passed immediately to the temple Treasury, and must be used for charitable purposes. Temple-building may be done with donated labor, but the costs must be incurred by the clergy. No priest of Dremis accepts a salary from the church.

Some temples, like the one at Equus, are factories or other production facilities. In Equus the temple buys wool to trade, card and spin into thread and yarn which is also traded, weave into cloth or knit into clothing, also for trade. The employees are centaurs who are infirm, with limited abilities, or down on their luck. In exchange for social dignity and a secure income they are expected to perform at the best of their ability. Even if one's ability is limited to folding socks, the temple pays well enough to feed, clothe, and house a worker. Infirmity may make it impossible for a centaur to do any useful work. These individuals are cared for and given tasks which they can do to preserve their dignity. However, one who can do work and refuses is fired, and becomes the lowest of the low in centaur society.

Centaurs tend to think of themselves as artists, and it is rare to find one who does not dabble in some form of art. This extends to things humans might not consider art, such as wine-blending and craft beer brewing. On almost every structure there are archetectural embellishments. Virtually every public fountain or well is also a sculpture, and the square white boxes of centaur homes are accessed through gardened avenues lined with olive trees.

Music is an important aspect of centaur social life. In the evening, locals gather on street corners, at pubs, or in the homes of friends to sing, play instruments, or listen to performances. Virtually every young lover at one point or another tries to serenade his heart's desire. There is a comic story often retold, about a filly with four ardent suitors whose nightly serenades lead to competition, then to the realization that they were the perfect combination of talents to form a band. The young lady was forgotten as they went on to become famous.

Centaur textiles tend to be durable and heavy, but because of the artistry of the centaurs they are desired by other societies. One form of textile incorporates elaborate knot patterns unique to each creator. The guild of weavers maintains samples and enforce licensing fees and contracts.

Weaving is a prized skill at all levels of centaur society. Rope and harness weaving among the nomadic tribes, functional garments and furnishings among the working folks, or highly ornamented, overly complex patterns among the wealthy are all prized, and form the basis of many family heirlooms.

Dremis is Demigod of the Mind, whose teachings require freedom of thought and the responsibility of mentorship. As such, followers of her cult have an affinity for research and education. As a result, over the last five centaur generations, (150 years,) the University of Equus has grown from a library of ancient centaur religious and historical tomes into a modern and cosmopolitan center of research and education.

Within the city it is a matter of pride and status to have attended the university, even if only for a night class on small business administration.

Landmarks:

The Stage is the open dias in the center of the city plaza. It is used by the citizenry as a forum where ideas can be expounded and debated. Philosophers declare their ideals, teachers teach rhetoric, and politicians debate politics and the future of the city. Families come to picnic and be entertained by the deep intellectual expositions, and the city as a whole tends to view The Stage as the heart of their city.

The Senate is where the elected officials from around the lands come to meet, debate, and set government policies. The central chamber is where the Senate meets, with a gallery around it for spectators. Offices and gathering places surround the Floor.

On the downslope behind the Senate a large public park is built on terraces. Strategically located apiaries house hives of honeybees which are between two and three inches long. The hives are usually built on the terrace walls, above traffic and far enough below the next terrace to prevent accidental disturbances. The grounds of the park are covered in clover and plants with large flowers.
Twice a year the locals come out to watch the aerial displays of bees, beginning with the eviction of the princesses in spring and ending with the culling of the hive in fall. In spring great swarms form dazzling displays as they try to protect the unfertilized queens from the mobs of drones fighting and dying for the chance to sire the next generation before they starve to death. In autumn, hives drive out and kill off the summer-born workers which have a lifespan measured in weeks in favor of aggressive winter workers whose lifespan is typically long enough to carry the hive into spring.

A unit of the university is detached from the parallelogram that surrounds The Quad, or the central open space between the university structures.

It is a unique structure in the city because it is round, has nine towers on its outer wall, and its upper two floors, and the two floors of each tower that rises above it, are lined with wide glazed windows. This is the College Of Dweomercraft.
The college is home to the most powerful centaur spellcasters in each of the nine schools of magic. Promising young spellcasters are sponsored to the College, which also serves as a magical research library and lab for visiting wizards, for a fee. Common materials are exchanged at standardized rates here, while the wizards tend to barter for rare or unique items and books. Loan of library and lab space can be paid off by sharing the fruits of one's research. Otherwise, fees are assessed based on how valuable the wizards think the results will be.

Halfway between the port and the city gate there is a small house, obviously once used for a dwelling, which has numerous weathered wooden tables built to a height comfortable for centaurs. There are human-sized chairs and halfling ladders to accommodate smaller guests. Behind the building the one-acre field has several dust-baths and a deep pool of usually clear water which clouds up after a few dust-bathers rinse off.
There is a pole with an old wooden flagon nailed to it, signifying that it is an inn. Locals call it The Broken Flagon or The Flagon. Their beer is seasonally flavored and served in quart-sized flagons. They also serve salt-bread, (sourdough heavily sprinkled with sea salt,) and a variety of stews based on local seasonally available foods. There are no indoor facilities for guests, though in bad weather the staff may erect pavilions to shelter the workers who haul goods between the port and the gate. The evening crowd gets obnoxiously loud, but violence beyond contests for bragging rights are rare.

The Circuit is an 18 furlong oval track located to the left of the Senate as seen from the port. Usually the track is just a road in the city's grid with a layer of compacted clay over cobbles. Weather and traffic create ruts and potholes, but before an official race the track is groomed.
Spectators come out in the colors of their team on race days, and barkers hawk food, drink, and souvenirs to the crowds who line the track to cheer as their favorites go by. The flat, or nearly flat roofs of the buildings surrounding, and within the tracks are filled to capacity for most races. At both ends of the two straightaways, carved obelisks stand, exactly a half- mile apart.
Children in the city often exercise through running, and few can resist pretending they are one of the many champions of The Circuit as they trot, skip, and gallop around The Circuit.

Wastewater from the city is channeled to the steep slope behind the city where it is captured in a series of retaining ponds which serve to allow purification and to turn water-wheels for two dozen mills. Pottery, weaving, cement-making, and other purposes employ from a dozen to several hundred centaurs at the various mills. The largest is the leatherwork mill, where decorative and utility harnesses, backpacks, and other leather goods are made. A unique item made here by the centaurs serves only one purpose. A short lash which, when snapped by one with expertise, creates a loud crack that is used to start races.
Like all centaur goods, elaborate patterns and embellishments are added to well-crafted leather wares. Equestrians and centaurs from all around the region pay premium prices for the barding and leather armor made here.

Tharcy's Wine Shop is located on the City Plaza, across the highway from the College of Dweomercraft. An ordinary two-story structure has several semi-permanent pavilions attached to it with tables around which centaurs of all classes gather for an afternoon beer or cup of wine. Flanking the large gated entrance is a pair of bars, both of which have ceramic wine pots beneath which ceramic bowls filled with coals can be placed to slowly heat or keep the wine hot. Cool wine and beer is kept in the back of the rooms that flank the doors. In the courtyard is a fountain with a bronze tree in it, with rainwater dripping from it's beaten leaves. Around the courtyard and in the open rooms that face it are resting benches with tables. Tharcy is an old female paint of small stature, whose wrinkled skin was once tan. Her large brown eyes appear to know too much.
She and her staff serve drinks and snacks, and set up board games and other sophisticated gambling games for their inside patrons.

Beneath the city is the ruins of an ancient city, long since buried and forgotten. Occasionally some bit of stonework or pottery is unearthed, but this is uncommon. Digging basements, sewers, and aquaducts is most commonly how such fragments are discovered now, though in the original settlement of the region such finds were more common. They can be glimpsed now scattered around field-walls or very old buildings, repurposed by the new inhabitants.

Gadelle Maviori is an archaeologist at the College whoaintains a collection of such antiquities, and in her what knowledge the centaurs have of the previous occupants of their region is retained and preserved. One fact is generally known by everyone who is aware of the older city; no one has successfully cast a definition on the remains and gained insight into its past.


Port Town:

A natural bay formed by the highlands to the left of the city and a sandbar which results from the coastal current which flows from left to right past its headland would long since have backfilled with sand, except for an underwater cave beneath the headland which channels a continuous current of water into the bottom of the bay, which is strong enough to carve a deep channel through the bar and siphon silt out of the bay.

Onto this natural advantage the centaurs have added a stone-reinforced causeway which encircles three quarters of the bay, and accesses a star-shaped defensive point which has a huge trebuchet in its center which serves mostly as a flagpole. The bay-side beach behind the causeway serves as a base for the fishing fleet and as a fish market. Fish, shrimp, crabs, squid, and seaweed, along with less common and even exotic products from the sea are traded and sold here.

Overlooking the bay is a modest lighthouse which gains a height advantage from the headland. It is accessible via a road from the city, and its beacon is magically generated. The steep hillside is climbable, but aside from the paths used by farmers to access their fields on the gentler slopes, there is no road from the harbor to the lighthouse.

The town itself sits above the bay, with a sloping sand beach rising from the waterline to the seawall which doubles as a defense. From the seawall three stone quays extend into the bay, into water deep enough to dock oceangoing vessels. Each quay has a rolling gantry crane which uses a combination of counterweights and compound pulleys connected to a drum roller to load and unload heavy cargo. The wheels of the gantries are six feet high, bound in steel, and set in grooves which run the length of the quays. Traffic moves beneath them as long as it can fit under their twenty-foot decks, and on each side a steep ramp allows access to the deck. The booms can service loads up to 80 feet in the air, which is useful for the repair of masts and spars, as well as for large loads on a high-sided vessels. Smaller gantries can be pulled beneath the larger ones, which are typically stationed at the end of the quay when they are not in use.

Large warehouses form the first row of buildings behind the seawall, with a broad service lane fronting them. Low shrubs and planters provide color to the otherwise utilitarian street. The lanes between some of the warehouses go uphill, forming the first streets of the town. Four streets roughly parallel the seawall street, following more-or-less level contours of the hillside with joining roads between them where convenient. Businesses tend to cluster near the warehouses and the main road to the city, with residential apartments and dwellings filling in the rest.

There is no rear wall for the town; the lots around each building grow larger until they merge into the farmlands which dominate the slope between the city and the town.

The population of the town is more cosmopolitan than that of the city, with humans making up about fifteen percent of the population and other races totaling as much as another two percent.

The beach is crowded with centaur-vessels, generally fishing or utility boats. True ocean-going vessels built for centaurs are rare. Their boats tend to be wider and have higher railings than human boats, and the decks tend to have fewer obstructions. The surfaces of the decks are typically cross-hatched to allow secure footing.

On the far left end where the warehouses end and the headland begins to rise Farset Sailmaster operates an open shipyard, building and repairing the town's fleet. Skilled craftsmen also perform repairs and maintenance on the trade ships which use the port.

Centaur sailcloth is known for its durability light weight, and water repellant properties. Farset is one of the most skilled sail manufacturers on the coast, and custom designs sails for each ship and its sailing master.

More to come.

[Palanan]

Originally Posted by brian 333
*City of Equus*

Promising start, looking forward to more.

Originally Posted by brian 333
The city's road Wendy's this way….

I’m holding out for a Hardee’s myself.

[brian 333]

Promising start, looking forward to more.



I’m holding out for a Hardee’s myself.

Corrected. There are no Hardee's or Wendy's here, but around the university there is a Starbucks on every corner.

[Palanan]

Originally Posted by brian 333
...but around the university there is a Starbucks on every corner.

Got a solid laugh from me, as I proudly drink my non-St*rb*cks coffee.

A good quest for centaur mage apprentices is to go forth and find better coffee to bring back to their wizardly academic advisors.

[Metastachydium]

A good quest for centaur mage apprentices is to go forth and find better coffee to bring back to their wizardly academic advisors.

A good quest alright… But not one without risks!

[brian 333]

A good quest for centaur mage apprentices is to go forth and find better coffee to bring back to their wizardly academic advisors.

This is how the Starbucks got there.

[brian 333]

A Tale:

In the spring of 2512 a tribe of humans migrated into the forested borderlands, where they set about farming and trading. Their foreign language and mannerisms quickly disrupted the social equilibrium of the region. Taress Fita became the Senator for the region at that time, and began a series of monologues at The Stage, the topic of which was the unfitness of humans to cohabitate with centaurs.

"Humans come into our lands and carve up ancestral pastures for their farms, dam our streams for their mills, and demand that we obey their laws and traditions while they scoff at ours.
"It is time we put a stop to this! If humans want to live in our lands, they should be required to live by our laws, our customs, and our traditions! If they refuse, then it is our right to expell them, by force of necessary!"

Taress Fita was building up to his usual explosive diatribe against humans, once again evoking anger and hostility in the crowd toward them. But on this afternoon, a simple centaur, wearing the heavy leather harness of a teamster, placed a hoof on The Stage, indicating he wished to be heard. Expecting to be able to use the teamster's rhetoric to further his own, the master speaker yielded The Stage and went to stand at its edge with a smile.

The worker took the stage and looked around without speaking for a moment. Thinking him intimidated by the crowd, Taress Fita laughed. Then the centaur spoke.

His deep voice projected without a need to shout, and his simple appearance assumed an image of nobility.

"Why are we so fearful of humans?" he asked. "Have they come to corrupt us? Turn us to evil ends? Deny us the life our ancestors worked so hard to give to us?
"Are they a military threat? An army come to conquer us? What have these humans done that deserves we threaten them with violence?
"There is a more important question that no one is asking. 'What are our values?' Are we willing to set aside who we are? What we are? For, what? An imagined threat?
"We call ourselves the Free Peoples. Our ancient ancestor is the Summer Winds. Do we demand the conformity among ourselves that we seem to be demanding of the humans? Do we threaten our neighbors when they act in ways we do not approve? Do we evict families who break wild sod to plant crops, or take away the tools they need to make their bread?
"If we do these things to humans, we become hypocrites. Our values and customs do not teach us to be intolerant of others. Our beliefs and laws do not demand conformity among us. The contrary is true.
"If we deny to anyone the freedoms we take for granted, then those same freedoms can be denied to us. Beware those who call upon you to rob from others. You will, in the end, be robbed yourself."

The worker left The Stage, then, and as he wandered away many in the crowd followed. Taress Fita tried to speak, but someone began a chant: Robber, robber, robber!

In its next session the Senate voted to grant township rights to human villages, and affirmed the law which allowed humans to serve in government under the same qualifications as centaurs. And within a generation the human villages were subsumed into the society at large, most even becoming indistinguishable from the centaur farm villages both in style and in population.

[Wintermoot]

Track and Field:

Sport and competition are strong in the Centaur blood, especially races. Many young Centaurs spend a good portion of time running in tracks, both sprints and longer endurance races. As such there are a large number of oval tracks and hippodomes through Equus. Discus, Shotput and Javelin are also popular sports, but nothing like the running sports in popularity.

Once every five years, there is a massive marathon race that spans well over 600 miles and takes the competitors 10 days or more to complete, each running for 16 to 17 hours a day. The actual path of the race is a closely guarded secret, only revealed a few days before the race. the terrain will invariably include mountain passes, green open valleys, wooded hills, river crossings, wetland and floodplains, sandy semi-arid dunes, rolling hills, dry riverbeds and of course open steppe. The competitors in this race are public celebrities, often besotted by legions of young adoring fans.

In addition to track and field sports, there is a polo like team sport that is popular, involving teams of centaurs using long handled hammers to move a ball back and forth a marked field, trying to score goals on either end. This sport has a professional league of twelve teams that each host a field around the city in different neighborhoods. Sometimes, on big rivalry games, the crowds can get agitated out of control and do property damage to the streets around the stadiums after consuming far too much wine and spirits.

[brian 333]

Track and Field:

Sport and competition are strong in the Centaur blood, especially races. Many young Centaurs spend a good portion of time running in tracks, both sprints and longer endurance races. As such there are a large number of oval tracks and hippodomes through Equus. Discus, Shotput and Javelin are also popular sports, but nothing like the running sports in popularity.

Once every five years, there is a massive marathon race that spans well over 600 miles and takes the competitors 10 days or more to complete, each running for 16 to 17 hours a day. The actual path of the race is a closely guarded secret, only revealed a few days before the race. the terrain will invariably include mountain passes, green open valleys, wooded hills, river crossings, wetland and floodplains, sandy semi-arid dunes, rolling hills, dry riverbeds and of course open steppe. The competitors in this race are public celebrities, often besotted by legions of young adoring fans.

In addition to track and field sports, there is a polo like team sport that is popular, involving teams of centaurs using long handled hammers to move a ball back and forth a marked field, trying to score goals on either end. This sport has a professional league of twelve teams that each host a field around the city in different neighborhoods. Sometimes, on big rivalry games, the crowds can get agitated out of control and do property damage to the streets around the stadiums after consuming far too much wine and spirits.

I like very much. Adopted in whole.

Hooliganism is not cool, though. Just sayin'.

[Wintermoot]

I like very much. Adopted in whole.

Hooliganism is not cool, though. Just sayin'.

great crowds of centaurs, wearing colorful scarves, hats and saddlecloths in the colors of their home team, raucously parading through the streets, blowing on Vuvazela pan-pipes, banging on drums, and singing their team's song.

Suddenly, as the turn a corner into a plaza between neighborhoods, they find another crowd, wearing the enemy colors parading from another street.

Everything goes quiet.

Then, with a surge, the battle begins.

[brian 333]

Kadda Atan ran for the joy of running. The wind of her passing caressed her pale skin, brushed her black coat, tugged her glossy black mane and tail, and carried away the tensions of her day. And for a six-year-old she had far too much tension.

Her coach had shown her off to a potential sponsor after today's classes. The old woman had checked her over more thoroughly than a skinned rabbit in the low market. The depth of her barrel, muscle tone of her legs, clarity of her eyes, condition of her hooves: no doctor had clucked over her more than that mother hen.

Then Coach ran her through her exercises and stretches. She ran an easy two and then a four furlong that barely lasted long enough to make her breathe heavy. She was finally allowed to stretch herself in a thirty-two furlong. A full twelve minute run allowed her to really show her stride and demonstrate her breathing control. In the next year she would be allowed to run farther, but thirty-two was the limit for her age.

All centaurs were born to run, but some, like Kadda, were gifted with extraordinary athletic ability. Her reflexes and powerful rump allowed her to leap off the starting blocks a body-length ahead of her peers, and her thin figure and long legs gave her a long stride that ate up the course. Her natural abilities had been, were being, enhanced by the knowledge and training techniques of her coach. She seldom lost, and always placed.

So coach showed her off. At her age sponsors funded programs, not individuals. Without her scholarship Kadda's mother could never have afforded to send her to the Vernonia Academy. And in earning her athletic scholarship she helped to garner funding for other scholarships, some for athletics, and others for scholastics. So Kadda worked hard in her classes and on the track.

The route from her school to the Forest Gate Plaza was lined with flower gardens, olive trees whose grey leaves arched over the avenue, and dozens of shops, stores, and businesses, all with patrons and workers, homemakers and craftsmen going about their business. Teamsters towed carts and wagons while porters piled merchandise on their broad, sturdy backs. Centaurs stood or reposed at counters sipping tea or mulled wine, playing at chess or carfour, or gossiping with neighbors.

She threaded her way through the broad but busy street, oblivious to the occupants of the ordinary scene as other than obstacles to be avoided.

As she exited the avenue into the plaza she saw her friends over by the fountain. Darza, a walnut-skinned bay stood between Giadda, a sorrel with almost chocolate colored skin and a new-penny colored coat, mane, and tail, and Aiemi, a small-boned piebald whose stark white and black patches continued on her bare skin.

They came together with hugs and the high-speed chatter that only six-year-olds could comprehend. After Kadda had been brought up to speed on the latest gossip they began to practice a new dance Giadda had learned, and with arms linked the foursome began to circle the fountain dancing and laughing at their missteps.

On the fourth circuit Sypan, a grey male their age with creme mane, tail, and feathering, clopped in front of them in a clumsy immitation of their dance that set them all laughing. Giadda paired with him and began to show him the steps at a slower pace.

Kadda saw the laughter leave Darza's face and quickly realized that her friend was falling into jealousy. She had never seen blue ice, so she didn't understand Darza's dreamy musing about Sypan's ice-blue eyes. But she knew her friend had a crush on the clumsy male who was currently dancing with their friend.

Darza was a little farther along the curve of adolescence than her friends, though of late Kadda had begun to bind her small buds when she raced. The thought gave her an idea, and taking Darza's arm, Kadda began a dance that was simple and bouncy. Then she artfully maneuvered so the two pairs faced off: Darza against Sypan and herself against Giadda. They danced out the challenge and, as planned, Sypan's eyes could not turn away from the bouncing Darza.

Kadda laughed as she noticed many other adolescent males in the plaza looking their way. But Giadda increased the pace, and she had to concentrate to keep up. By the fourth round Sypan dropped out, and Darza in the next.

Giadda's natural grace and Kadda's precision kept them going, round after round, faster and faster. Giadda's hooves began to throw rainbow-colored sparks and Kadda became aware of the crowd watching them when they oohed. The rules forbid her looking at her own hooves, but a glance at Aiemi showed that their friend, her face a study in concentration, was using her magic to augment their dance.

In Giadda's turn she added to the pattern, and it was all Kadda could do to keep up. A slight mis-step that Giadda covered with her natural agility was, when Kadda tried to perform the step, an obvious error. Kadda laughed as Giadda ran through the pattern a final time, flawlessly, and with flourishes that turned the complex dance into a fluid expression of joy.

The crowd's applause drowned out another sound as the girls hugged, then drew Aiemi into the embrace. Kadda looked around for Darza, and instead of her friend she saw the cause of the other sound: the sound of a parade of pipers coming into the square wearing yellow and gray harnesses and ribbons.

Supporters of the Verbena School, displaying their colors, paraded into Forest Plaza: it was a challenge. The colors of Vernonia, Kadda's school, were violet and green, and were typically not much in sight after school and away from the games.

Older centaurs watched as the youths in the plaza lined up, surrounding but not impeding the progress of their rivals. The procession, lead by a row of five pipers, received jeers and catcalls as they approached the fountain.

A youth, about fifteen if the growth of his beard could be trusted, stepped between the pipers and pointed at Kadda!

"There she is! The black with the blaze!"

Kadda was shocked into inaction. Her only reaction was to tug the white forelock that dangled down the side of her face back over her right ear. But Giadda pulled her behind the line of males that jumped between her and the invaders. Several large females filled in on the flanks, and the grumbling of the crowd grew.

Beside the pointing male a grey female stepped through the pipers, who had shoved their pipes into their backpacks and looked to be ready to fight.

The grey female, about the same age as the male, was decked in ribbons of yellow and grey, and she wore a yellow backpack.

"Kadda Atan," she said, "They say you are the fastest in the city. We say you are not. We challenge you on your honor to defeat Ryar Mellit of Verbena Academy!"

A young dappled grey male stepped between them and Kadda could not help but judge him as she judged her opponents in a meet. He was an older five or a young six, with a cropped black mane. His legs and chest were thicker than hers, and his muscles showed the definition that could only come with a high protein diet and rigorous exercise.

At his age he looked strong. As he grew older his increasing bulk would be a problem; heavy muscles were not desired for distance running. His hooves were thick and ridged, indicating his diet was too heavy in meats and too light in fish, nuts, and other sources of fatty oils. He was probably very good at the shorter runs, she thought, but would have muscle pains after a twenty-four or thirty-two, and as he grew older his growing muscle mass would make the long distance races even more difficult for him.

Kadda slipped her arm from Giadda's and squeezed between her impromptu bodyguard.

"Hello, Ryar," she said. "I'm Kadda. You must know that unsanctioned races can get us expelled..."

"Who's going to tell?" the teen asked in a threatening tone.

"Me," Kadda said. "I won't lie to my coach, and tomorrow on the field she will ask."

She turned to speak and then looked back. Her gaze zeroed in on his front left hoof which had a metal strap stapled around the front. It bound a split in the hoof with about one third of the hoof regrown above it. It was a crippling injury for a racer, and rare. In fact, she had heard of only one such injury.

"You are Hanar Vil. You were favorite for the sixty-four two years ago."

"I'd have won if Vernonia wasn't a pack of cheaters!"

The crowd began to grumble again, but Kadda said, "I wasn't there, and neither was he." She pointed at Ryar. "And I never cheat."

She turned back to Ryar, saying, "I can't wait to race you, officially, on the track. I bet you're a beast in the four furlongs! But I've worked too hard to lose my scholarship in a street race, and I'd bet you have too."

"I told you!" Hanar shouted. "She's a coward, like all Vernonia!"

Someone began to make the buzzing sound that was used as a cheer by the Vernonia fans: a crude imitation of the sound of their bee mascot. It was quickly picked up by others in the crowd.

An elder began to shove his way through the crowd, barking at those who blocked his way.

"What is going on here?" he demanded. "We'll have no hooligans in this plaza!"

From the other side of the plaza the sound of hooves in a trot, matching strides, indicated the arrival of the constabulary. Four officers in white harness wearing the tall white hat which was so conspicuous used shepherd's staves to push through the crowd.

"There will be no street racing on my watch!" the very large bay female with white stockings on all four feet announced in her voice of authority. "Who is responsible for this mob?"

The elder pointed to Hanar and said, "He leads those Verbena fans!"

The officer turned to confront the invaders, but Kadda was watching Ryar. He looked embarrassed and defiant at the same time. And Kadda knew that an athlete with black marks on his record could lose sponsors.

The officer was giving them a speech about the dangers of street racing and starting to ask for names.

"It's not a race challenge, officer!" she shouted.

Kadda felt very small as every eye in the crowd turned to her. The crowd was so quiet in that moment that a mockingbird in a distant olive tree made the loudest sound in the plaza.

"It isn't?" the constable asked. "Then please tell me what is going on here?"

"Dance," Kadda said. It was all she could think of at the moment. "A dance challenge."

The Verbena gray said, "Yes, we heard they enjoy dancing, and came to join in the fun."

"Dancing?" The skeptical officer said, "This I have to see!" After an awkward pause, she said, "Well, get on with it!"

Kadda stepped into the clearing space in the center of the crowd and, looking only at Ryar, said, "The Stag!"

She went through the simple pattern once, then again when Ryar joined in. Then Giadda and Aiemi were on her flanks and the grey and Hanar flanked Ryar. A Verbena drummer took up the beat, and within another turn the pipers joined in.

Ryar smiled and in his turn changed the steps to the Turkey Trot. The dance was suitable for a promenade, so in her turn Kadda linked arms with Ryar and began a procession around the fountain. Two by two the Vernonia and Verbena dancers paired and followed them.

The leading pair passed the frowning constables seven times, changing the steps through all of the elementary dances each time. By that time the rivals were laughing and clapping out the beat. With each circuit the musicians played a beat faster, and for some in the procession the elementary steps were proving difficult.

Kadda lead Ryar to the constables and turned to face Ryar as she stepped out the challenge. He matched her, and the real dance began. Other pairs quickly dropped out, and in turn after turn the dance became faster and faster, until only a handful of dancers were keeping up.

Ryar missed a step, and in that same step Kadda stumbled. She tried to make it look accidental; she didn't want Ryar to feel as if he'd lost.

She recalled her own early races, and how winning built up her confidence, and how difficult a loss could be. But she had learned to learn from her mistakes, and to accept losses without taking them personally.

But now she and Ryar were both out of the dance, and they were being ignored because all eyes were on Giadda and the Verbena grey.

Where Kadda's dance was precise and almost mechanical, Giadda moved like water. Or fire. And that gave Kadda a mental image of water and fire dancing. Passionate, graceful, powerful, controlled.

The musicians were beginning to fall out as one by one they failed to keep up with the ever increasing pace. Then the last drummer faltered, tried to keep playing, and was forced to quit by the staccato clap of hooves on pavers.

Both reached their limit. Neither could go faster, but neither missed a step. They finally came to a hard stop at the end of the pattern and stood facing each other, their upper chests heaving in alternate time with their barrels.

Laughing, they came together in an embrace, and celebratory shouts and cheers went up around the plaza. The classmates from rival schools were locking forearms, hugging, bragging. Almost unnoticed, the constables vanished.

In the next hour as the sky turned to rose and the sun raced to the horizon Kadda had time to talk to Ryar. They talked races: breathing, exercises, diet, discipline. They talked friends, gossip. Ryar told his stories with a twist of humor. Kadda forgot most of what she said, and didn't remember how they had come to be pressed against one another along their flanks, arm in arm. But it was a pleasant sensation.

A whooping near the fountain caught their attention, and they saw the grey waving to Ryar with a strange smirk on her face.

"I have to go," he said.

"I can't wait to see you again. In the races, I mean."

"Yeah," he breathed. "Me too. I'm going to beat you!"

"You wish!" she said as he trotted away.

Darza came up beside her as the Verbena team formed up and, lead by their pipers, marched out of the plaza, escorted by the cheering, jeering Vernonia fans.

"He's cute," Darza said. "I didn't think you liked the muscley type."

"He's a racer!" Kadda said. "And by the way, where were you?"

"We took a walk. I hear we missed all the fun."

"Something tells me you didn't miss all the fun!"

"Neither did you, apparently," Darza said with a smirk. "Come on, Aiemi is waiting for us!"

Darza cantered back toward the fountain, and Kadda followed. Along the way she wondered if her coach would be willing to recruit a sprinter.