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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]
Piraen had only been in the floating city for a fourth of a season, but, as he walked into the stone registration office, he knew that this was where he wanted to stay. It was bizarre to him, how his heart so readily changed its mind. He had set out determined to find The Spires, but, after a lengthy, painful trip from Nyka, was now content to live here, in Ravok. Perhaps he was just settling, tired of constantly roaming the wilds of all of Mizahar. Perhaps he was truly in love with Ravok. Whatever the reason, Piraen felt no guilt, no regret, as he filled out his application and handed it to the registrar.
Citizenship Application :
Name: Piraen Saneka Race: Kelvic (Brahminy Kite) Parentage: Issid and Aella Saneka Place of Birth: Northern Kalea, somewhere near Denval
Primary Trade: Sewing Known Magic: None Financial Holdings: 545gm
Please state your reason for being in Ravok: To settle down. Finally.
He straightened his brocade vest, nodding with a cordial smile as he waited for the adjacent person to respond. He slid his thin fingers into his pockets, content with waiting. He had all the time in the world, and this took precedence over whatever else he had to do.
If a building isn't called a built even after it has been completed, then a thought should be called a thinking even after it's been said.
Piraen had only been in the floating city for a fourth of a season, but, as he walked into the stone registration office, he knew that this was where he wanted to stay. It was bizarre to him, how his heart so readily changed its mind. He had set out determined to find The Spires, but, after a lengthy, painful trip from Nyka, was now content to live here, in Ravok. Perhaps he was just settling, tired of constantly roaming the wilds of all of Mizahar. Perhaps he was truly in love with Ravok. Whatever the reason, Piraen felt no guilt, no regret, as he filled out his application and handed it to the registrar.
Citizenship Application :
Name: Piraen Saneka Race: Kelvic (Brahminy Kite) Parentage: Issid and Aella Saneka Place of Birth: Northern Kalea, somewhere near Denval
Primary Trade: Sewing Known Magic: None Financial Holdings: 545gm
Please state your reason for being in Ravok: To settle down. Finally.
He straightened his brocade vest, nodding with a cordial smile as he waited for the adjacent person to respond. He slid his thin fingers into his pockets, content with waiting. He had all the time in the world, and this took precedence over whatever else he had to do.
If a building isn't called a built even after it has been completed, then a thought should be called a thinking even after it's been said.
Name: Dra Seven Xu Race: Mixed (human, symenestra). Parentage: Zhao Xu, Dra-Nesyria Plicata. Place of Birth: Lhavit. Primary Trade: Celestial cartographer. Known Magic: Shielding. Financial Holdings: 2,309 gold-rimmed mizas. Please state your reason for being in Ravok: Permanent residence beneath the protection of Rhysol.
His white nose wrinkled at the loaded answer he’d written on the last line. He didn’t like it; he wasn’t fond of declaring whatever sums of money he’d managed to come out with on the other side of the lengthy trip, or listing the magic he kept close, either. But he was tired. Victor had urged him to visit the registrar before they even had chance to sleep or bathe away the stink of wilderness.
The cold reality of Ravok had struck him in the face as soon as he stepped beneath the vaulted stone ceiling of the narrow waiting room. A guard’s face soured after a double take, and she answered his questions with an abrupt tone and an upturned nose. Hardwired xenophobes, humans on self-imposed pedestals: they bothered him little. It wasn’t quite the same as Lhavit, he’d decided. It was simple intolerance. Fear, maybe, but ignorant.
Regardless, he wished Victor had come with him.
“So I just wait out here until they call me in?” Seven shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes on the sheet of paper he’d filled out.
Tawny slouched in his chair and tapped his fingers together. "That'll do, that'll do," he muttered, and then began filling out two copies of the papers that would identify Louis as a citizen. He mumbled unintelligibly as he scribbled, leaving the new Ravokian to the ominous stare of the portrait of Rhysol on the wall above Tawny. The quiet scritching of the quill was the only sound in the room for several chimes. The silence was broken by two loud slams of Tawny stamping both papers with an official-looking seal.
With a crooked grin, he handed one of the copies to Noctan and put the other in a drawer along with the application. "That one's yours to keep, the other one goes in the vault. Just in case you, er... lose it, heh heh. Can't tell you how many citizens fall in a canal and need a replacement copy. Just make sure you stay out of trouble and in the city for the next to seasons, or the both copies go bye-bye," he finished with a wink.
Their business concluded, Tawny quickly shooed Noctan from his office and called in the next applicant.
Rewards :
Earned Item: Ravok Citizenship Papers
Good luck in Ravok, "Louis"
Piraen Saneka:
Tawny rubbed his face blearily as he called in the next applicant, not even looking at his fancy suit. He hadn't been sleeping well at all lately, bad dreams and sch. He yawned as he gestured for Piraen to sit and took the application. He scanned the first line and mumbled the name, mispronouncing it horribly. However, when his eyes reached the second line, the snapped wide open, and he became alert and his usual oily smile reappeared on his face.
"A kelvic? You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in the slave markets? I hear they take real good care of your kind there, heh heh." He winked, in a manner that made it hard to distinguish whether he was joking, or just trying to be helpful. He intended to wait for Piraen's reaction, but his glance caught the next line down, and he frowned, his voice taking on a hard edge. "What's 'Denval'? That some kind of made-up city? Listen buddy, Rhysol doesn't look kindly on people faking their application." Indeed, the portrait of Rhysol on the wall above Tawny did appear to glare menacingly. Denval was such a remote city, few in Ravok had ever heard of it.
Seven Xu:
Jill Renfast, the new registrar, took a deep breath as she prepared to call in the next applicant. She had been doing fine in her new position for the past few days, but today was different. Today she was being supervised by Tawny. It was less that he was staring at things lower than her face that bothered her, and more that he was in a position to make her career very difficult if she made a mistake this early on.
She babbled meaningless niceties as she ushered Seven into the office, in the chair facing the portrait of Rhysol. Tawny was sitting in a spare chair in a corner by he door, so that Jill couldn't even pretend to forget that he was leering at her. Doing her best to ignore her boss, she accepted Seven's application and studied it intently (perhaps more intently than necessary).
She giggled almost immediately. "Seven is a funny name for a person, isn't it? And how do you pronounce the last name? Ksu? Zu?" Her eyes drifted to the next line, and her smile slipped slightly. It was the first time she'd had to deal with someone not entirely human. Her eyes flicked nervously to Tawny, as if seeking some kind of guidance, but his ugly smirk remained unchanged. She would have to decide what to do on her own.
She cleared her throat and said, "I seem you have, er, Symenestra ancestry? That's... er, very interesting." Her tone picked up speed and surety as she continued speaking, "We don't get a lot of non-humans in Ravok. Let me just double-check the procedure for this case." Not looking at Tawny, she stood up and went to the bookshelves lining the small office. The first thing she had done in her new position was to familiarize herself with these books of Ravokian law. If there were rules regarding granting citizenship to non-humans, they should be fairly easy to find, but if there weren't she'd have to scour the whole shelf to prove they weren't there.
She started flipping through various large, musty tomes, mostly just stalling for time while she tried to think of how she was supposed to handle this. She suspected Tawny hadn't touched these books since his tenure began, but she planned to do things right...assuming she could figure out how. Fortunately, she had just fond something relevant in the book she was skimming. She brought it back to the table in case she needed it further, but she was pretty sure she knew what to do now. "Mister Xu," she began in a deceptively kind voice, quite different from how she had been speaking before, "we here in Ravok value the safety and security of our city, and as such, we are very select in to whom we grant citizenship. In order to consider your application, we will need some assurance that you will not become a...disruption."
Piraen nodded as he was greeted by the sleepy, pale-faced man. Freeing his left hand, the kelvic coiled his fingers around the back of the chair in front of him and jerked it out of its position. Piraen lowered himself into the seat quickly, muttering a phrase of gratitude as he did so. He tossed a casual leg over his knee, balancing his boney ankle atop the opposing leg.
A brief snigger slipped through his smile as the registrar mentioned the slave market. He was sure slavery would be suite his kelvic ways well, but the solitary bird inside him would never be content with servitude. Before, however, he could utter a witty line to express said thoughts, the man had spoken once more.
Denval? A made-up city? It was hard for Pi to imagine an entire city being conjured up on a whim. "It is real, I assure you." He nodded, adding a brief smile in as an added bonus. "Actually, truth be told...I've never been there. My family traversed the mountains around it a lot, and I was told we were near a place called Denval. I can't see them making up an entire city for just my benefit" Piraen shrugged nonchalantly. "But, anywho, the application is, to the best of my lowly knowledge, truthful in every word."
If a building isn't called a built even after it has been completed, then a thought should be called a thinking even after it's been said.
Tawny looked at the Kelvic as if he couldn't quite make up his mind. He did not detect any deception from Piraen, and it didn't really matter where he was from as long as it wasn't Syliras. Still, being a Kelvic presented a bit of a challenge. "Heh heh, yes, well, here's the thing." He lowered his voice, which was mostly for effect since the room was soundproof. "The folks who make the rules, not me, but them, they don't really trust non-humans, see. They have some silly nonsense baout how all non-humans are animals who would sooner destroy our city than contribute something meaningful to it." He waved his hand like this was all nonsense. "Not me of course, I love everyone, human or not," he said with a somewhat distrurbing grin. "But those higher-ups, they think the animals--that's their word not mine--should have to pay a, shall we say, security deposit, in case they, heh, make a mess."
He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He coughed lightly and looked away before mumbling, "The fee is 200 gold." He let that sink in a moment before he went back to the application. "But you don't seem like the sort to cause trouble," he said in an oily tone, "I mean, heh, sewing never hurt anyone, right? And you're clearly a bright kid if Ravok is the place you choose to spend the rest of your life. I might be willing to, say, scribble down 'human' in the race column, if you made it worth my while, say maybe a tenth of the ordinary fee? You don't look like you'd have any trouble hiding your kelvic-ness. Heck, I wouldn't even have noticed if you hadn't written it on a scrap of paper! Ha!" He let out a hearty laugh, which sounded rather out of place coming from such a small man.
Maedoc had been wandering around Ravok for about a week now, and it was entirely different than he had thought. The city itself was much more alive than the dreary crypt he had pictured, and the lake it dwelt upon much more vast. The ferry had taken nearly three hours to reach the city from the Southern Trading Post. He had figured out that the closer one walked to the center of the city, the nicer the buildings and streets were, and thus had been able to find his way from the bustling and dirty Docks to the refined households and public buildings in the Noble District.
The crowded outer lobby of the Citizen’s Registration Office was heavy with the anxiety of those inside it. All wanted to become a part of the city of Ravok, and many were worried about what the entailed, including Maedoc. He was uncomfortable with the crowded room, but it had been a long time since he had been so deep in such a populated place, having walked from Sunberth. The grey arches of the building mimicked the much grander ones of the Temple that trumped it. Their bureaucratic blandness left neither a feeling of comfort or reassurance, not that he was family with that sort of thing.
He had just finished filling out the rather simple application papers, having spent a few minutes wondering if the place of birth he had written down would be a problem, but decided against changing it. He loathed Syliras at least as much as this notorious city did. When the stoney faced Ebonstryfe guard motioned for the next person, Maedoc stood and approached the nearest desk.
“My papers.” The grey clad outsider said in a low tone, holding the parchment out in front of him.
Name: Maedoc Galenos Race: Human Parentage: Typhon Galenos (Deceased) and Eleanor Galenos (Deceased) Place of Birth: Syliras Primary Trade: Warhammer: Adept, Hand to Hand: Novice, Interrogation: Novice, Intelligence: Novice Known Magic: None. Financial Holdings: 573 Gold Mizas, 9 Silver Mizas Reason for being in Ravok: My purpose is to find work and learn skills.
In your ledger, please make sure you specify which season you are paying expenses for. Also, I notice you are paying Squalor living expenses. This is fine if you roleplay living a life of abject poverty, but since you can afford a tent and clothes that are nicer than sackcloth, it seems more likely that you’re living at least at Poor level.
As Maedoc entered the small office, the door closed behind him with a soft click, completely shutting out the murmurs of the waiting hall behind him. A young woman smiled sweetly up at him from her chair behind the desk, presenting a sharp contrast to the ominous gaze of Rhysol staring down at Maedoc from the portrait on the wall. "Please, won't you sit down?" The registrar gestured at the chair in front of Maedoc and accepted his application. She skimmed the parchment with a careful eye, occasionally making a comment.
"Oh, you poor thing. It's never easy to lose your parents. I lost mine when I was a little girl," she gave a weak smile of sympathy. Then she took a deep breath, and seemed to be struggling not to come off as suspicious as she continued, "But I can't help wondering what a child of Syliras would be doing, er, so far from home. It seems to me you could, what was it?" she glanced at the application again, "Ah yes, 'find work and learn skills' nearly anywhere. What made you choose Ravok? You must admit it seems an odd choice for one of your, er, birthplace."
As Maedoc took the seat he listened to the surprisingly kind looking clerk with trepidation. The truth was he hadn’t really known why he had come here. Yes, he had left Sunberth because it was decidedly not the ideal place for him. But why had he come here. He had not known much about Rhydol or Ravok except that they were opposites of Syliras and the Knights. That must have been good enough for his sub-conscience.
The tidbit about his parents made his face contort in a slight frown. He gave no response, thinking it not her place to know more of those particular individuals. He had spent much of his adult life surprising those haunts, for the most part unsuccessfully.
“Rest assured, I have nothing to do with that city any longer, and haven’t for a long time. It is nothing more to me than the place of my birth.” He said, trying to sound dismissive. But his eyes grew narrow slightly when thoughts of his childhood crept, unwelcome, back into his head.
He glanced up at the portrait, the pearly eyes glaring down at him unblinking. He started to speak, but found no words. Instead thumbing the smooth wood or his tobacco pipe underneath the table. "I had heard this place was accepting of those who are… of different views than those of the Sylirans, or Sunberthians.” He rubbed callused hands across a gruff chin and knew he had been reaching for words, and that the woman in front of him had seen it.
Maedoc leant forward. “I am just trying to find a place to start over. And under the shroud of the Dark God’s city, and under his laws,” He added. “I think I will be able to do that.”
Last edited by Maedoc on November 17th, 2012, 9:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The woman gazed hard at Maedoc for a few moments, as if looking into his soul. Finally, she leaned back, apparently satisfied with what she saw. "Well, we certainly welcome anyone who... disagrees with the ways of Syliras, and we would be happy to have you join our fine city. Your paperwork seems to be in order, so there is only one more thing you need to do."
Her lips curled into a smile. It was a perfectly friendly smile, though there was a hint of something almost predatory underneath it. "This city belongs to Rhysol, and to become one of his people, you need only speak your allegiance, and swear to abide by the laws set forth by the Black Sun. You need not say it in those exact works. Rhysol prefers you speak from the heart, so that he knows you mean it."
by Piraen Saneka on September 13th, 2012, 3:49 pm 
