I’ve read a few books over the years where characters don’t make an impact because they are lost in the crowd. It’s the classic X-Men problem, too many heroes mean nothing seems heroic. Don’t overwhelm us with faces.
Good advice (as always) from P.S.
“The Word of Wigaldir calls you!”
“Eternal life in Enga’s arms.”
“Fear not, sinners. Lether the Blessed will bring us to salvation!”
Like the mating calls of jungle birds, voices sailed over our heads, clamoring for our attention. Bristling with energy and humid with sweat, a forest of limbs and bodies slowed our passage through the bazaar. My guide, a woman half-hidden under a shawl, kept one hand tightly wrapped around my wrist as she pulled me through the Tangle. Bodies pressed in around us.
“What does any of this have to do with my stories?” I shouted over the din of people and prophets.
A girl with golden coins covering her eyes singled me out in the Tangle, writhing as she spoke, “Come, and worship at the altar of Satina with me. The sensual tongue-”
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