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Barros

Barros - Toria's Account

It's an island of chaos, but its home.

Barros is a large island twinned with another but separated by a stretch of water known as Cornio. I've never actually seen Cornio, and have no desire to, but apparently if you stand on the sand there you can see people moving about on the other island almost as clearly as if you were standing on their beach.

I love Barros. Some would argue that I'm a fool to do so, but I do. It's dangerous here, the streets riddled with quick-footed thieves and the fraudulent Deceptors, the monarchy's malicious emissaries. The monarchy's vague attempt at a fear campaign, their 'deterrence strategy', are the Deceptors, so named for their task of delivering criminals to the monarchy by lying and cheating the locals. Their creation just sounds like a sick joke to me, even with my background.

I'm supposed to be a royalist. My mother and father both work for our glorious *cough* not *cough* monarchy. They're both in charge of monitoring supplies, or running something or other. I don't know; I don't care. They big it up to be something highly important and, with the size of our island, I presume it must be.

I avoid asking about my parents work. Why? Because 1) as I mentioned earlier, I don't care, 2) because the monarchy disgusts me and 3) because I try to have as little to do with my parents as possible, as to why that is read number 2) again. I play nice for festival days though. The whole island takes to the streets for festivals to celebrate the bountiful life we lead here. Everyone's required to wear costumes and there's music everywhere so the island becomes even more chaotic than usual, but more charismatically so. There's also a parade made up of the monarchy and all the officials of the island and their families, so that's my parents and I included.

My name's Victoria, Victoria Felix. It's an unusually posh name for a citizen of Barros, so I shorten it to Toria when I'm interacting with anyone but my parents.

At least being the daughter of two officials opens a few doors for me. The majority of the island's population know me personally, the locals share my dislike for the monarchy so we get along well, but there's times when native charm only gets you so far - like getting out of trouble. It's amazing how quick people forget the law when you threaten them with a little 'official action'. It doesn't make you any friends though. That's why I avoid mention my parents unless I have to.

I live as freely as I can, slipping down alley ways, running with the street rats and thieves, the bandits and the rebels, living on the edge. Of course, some of their less 'favourable' habits have rubbed off on me, some of their less lawful practises... My parents would not react well to the stealing, or the gambling, or the hunting knife I carry in my boot.

Even with danger, Barros is an amazing place to live. Our island thrives! Children run freely in the streets and the island is awash with colour and submerged within the sounds of life. Most of the noise comes from the crowded market streets; the shouts of venders and the hubbub of social activity make thinking almost impossible. Our main commodity is food. Our people live a rich and plentiful life when it comes to food. Even if you cannot afford to buy, and there are unfortunate suckers out there who can't, walk about ten paces away from civilisation and you'll find something edible growing.

The other side of Cornio is the island of Teasdale. There are no accounts or records of communication with Teasdale, and there's no description of it either. I know I said I wasn't bothered about Cornio, trust me a stretch of sand doesn't exactly personify interesting, but Teasdale's a different story. The people I hang with are as clueless as I am but once in a while one of the elders with let something slip that they know more than they're letting on. But why is Teasdale kept a secret to everyone? You'd think with such close proximity we'd be keeping an eye on them.