The Harbor [Post here first]

[Elsa Marin]

Winter 5th, 513AV

When she first saw Sahova, coming out of the mist like an old, dark ship, Elsa's breath caught, and an excited shiver made her bells tinkle. The silence was oppressive, and she found herself pacing the bow, her bells joining the occasional creak or hushed whisper in breaking up the quiet. Her sister was somewhere on that island. As far as Elsa knew, Anna was probably in charge by now. The air was sick with magic. It clung to her, pressed down on her, and she had to wrap herself up in her cloak. The closer she came, the worse it felt.

Things felt thin somehow. Like skin stretched over a drum. Or a corpse, she reflected, shivering. The Void waited beneath that skin, empty, even of concepts like 'empty' and certainly not 'safe'. She wondered if it would be easier to reach the Void from here. She managed to refrain from trying, at least until she had her feet on solid ground again. She'd learned the risks of Voiding on a ship the hard way, only narrowly dodging her own portal as the ship moved without it.

As the approached Port Silence, Elsa made her goodbyes, and stepped off the ship with a tear in her eye and trepidation in her heart. The crew had made an excellent audience. She hoped the wizards of Sahova would do the same.

[Hebi]

Hebi stood on the prow of the ship excited to finally be off this boat. He didn't mind water and wasn't prone to seasickness but the confines of a wooden ship were not well suited to practice Fire Reimenancy. He disliked delaying his training since until he could find a teacher he would never truly advance. The Dhani male walked back along the deck to where his wagon was with his horse tied nearby. He wore plain clothing since changing into his true form often would ruin them if he forgot to remove them. His Black hair blow a little in the breeze, the red tips seeming to give his hair the appearance of fire.

He smiled as the ship smoothly pulled into port and began unloading passengers and cargo onto the docks. Hebi equipped the wagon gear and tac to the heavy horse and gentle pulled the horse's reins guiding it first of the ship and down the docks all the while pulling his wagon which contained his only possessions. He was relieve to find that the rumors he heard about this place being full of magic was true, the air practically buzzed with Djed making the young adult Dhani very excited.

He stopped slowly and took a moment to take in the atmosphere and to feel the relief of being one major step closer to getting proper training. He determined that it would probable be for the best that he hides his true identity and remain in his human form around the people here since they may not be too accepting of a Dhani who are well know for being brutal and violent creatures. He sighed to himself as he finally realized that he had no idea where to go from here.

[Clyde Sullins]

44 Winter 513 Clyde had been on Sahova before, though it had been a time since... Several years at least. In the intermittent time, many things had changed, mostly Clyde himself. The island of Sahova however, seemed more or less how he had left it. Not that he recalled much from his last stay, his memories where confused at best, due to the effects of the hynpotism that had brought him there to begin with. But now he was back, freed of the magics effects, and much stronger in his own magics. Unlike the last time he had been here, he seemed to stand a good chance of making it somewhere, of moving onward and upward. Even if his reasons for being here were not so straightforward, Clyde was glad to be in a place where magic was more commonplace and not looked upon as something to fear. But then, in exchange for this, there were many other costs. Regardless, as Clyde stepped off the boat and looked around at the stony island, he did find himself glad to be here. Now he just needed to figure out what he needed to do first.

[Krong]

33th of Winter, 513 AV

The massive Jamoura Krong slowly lumbered off the ship he was on being careful to have his footing. He didn't realize when he left just how much he would hate the feeling of being off balance all the time on a ship. He was fairly certain that most of it was to do with his own lack of experience when dealing with the rocking motion of the ground beneath him since it was usually quite sturdy on land. He towered above the humans that scurried about the Docks in every which way with little coordination. He stepped between them as he made his way off the dock being careful not to step on or harm another as he continued. Of far in the distance the Citadel Krong target could be seen the distance. He had traveled far to learn magic and various secrets from this place and intended to do so.

[Uryelia]

7th of Winter, 513AV Looking at the same wooden floorboards for hours took its toll. They were rotted, neglected for years. The cargo hold's horrid, musty smell brought a churning to Rye's stomach still, for no duration of time could give her the resistance to withstand such odors. It was not necessarily warm either. Everytime the hinged door that peaked at the top of the ladder opened, the cold's embrace shook Rye to the bone. Though, complaining for her was hard. Because she was talented with Calligraphy and Philtering, the slave master treated her differently from the others. A bit more food, clothing, something extra. As a consequence, the other slaves made the effort to shun her. Considering the fact that they would not all be purchased on the same day or by the same person, exchanging pleasantries was low on their list of priorities. After what felt like ages, a lean man opened the hinged door and poked his head into the cargo hold. Surveying around for a moment before fixating his gaze upon Rye, "Your out first, cap' says your the main commodity. Everyone else, stay until we call you," his raspy voice slithered in her ears, a chill running up through the spine. It forced Rye to shiver for a chime before skidding across the wooden floor with quick feet. Her desire to see the sky and smell fresh air was uncontained. What Uryelia had laid her eyes on, would take some getting used too...

[Zandelia]

64th Winter 513 AV


As the waves receded to but small swells, rebounding from the nearby spit of earth to create complex patterns upon its surface, Zandelia reflected that it was a lot like her life. Massive amounts of energy expended to create lattices of beauty - but only ever small, shifting patterns. She had tried, Akajia knew she had tried. Yet her efforts were always undone, they held little of true substance. She had learnt much of her craft over the ears and would wager she was of the more advanced player category. She needed something more however, she sensed it deep within her bones. It was a tingling at the edges of perception and she had decided that the cursed isle of Sahova would be the best place to learn.

The land of the dead...quite literally. How many times over the years have rumours circulated about it in Sunberth? They say many things, but it is a place where old truths are kept and secrets used to smear over them in camouflage. So they say....we will find out soon enough she mused to herself as the last few scores of yards were shaved to nothingness.

She merely leant against the scarred wood of her temporary home upon the waves, watching the workmen unload and load what they had come for. It was a quick process she noted, rather quicker than it had to be. Legend and walking corpses could hasten tasks so that eve the most lazy were veritable engines of production. She looked out upon the piers and half expected to see guardians of an elemental nature. It was reputed that a golem stood guard for entrance but she could not see one that looked t be invested with authority. She toyed with the edge of her robes, idly wondering if she should just stay on board and head to her ancestral city just over the horizon.

"No...." she whispered, "fear of a place without the experience...foolishness!" she hissed at herself, forcing her legs to move. She could not help but shudder as the impact of her boots upon the pier below out her in mind of a coffin lid closing.

She pulled her robes tighter, checked that she held all of her belongings and tossed a coin pouch at the captain of the vessel who was - conveniently - standing nearby and ready to block her way had payment no been met promptly. She grinned at her all too knowingly, the price was so cheap for a reason after all. She would never be able t get his stink off of her - not without excessive sanitation. She doubted she would find such in a city that had little interest in humanity. Or the living parts of it at any rate.

Time to see if it was worth it then she told herself as she set off into the silently mechanical bustle within what she resumed were the harbourmaster buildings.

A new beginning in an attempt to outrun the past. She doubted it would be a comfortable stay within Sahova.

[Volanaro]

73rd Day of Winter, 513 A.V. How long had it been? How long had the vicious rocking of the slave ship haunted the boy's waking moments, making sleep all but unreachable? Sven had absolutely no idea, but the motions did not stop until Sven had at last fallen asleep, his dreams plagued with the faces of his parents, the disappearance of his father in the dead of night, the slow, haunting death of his mother. The face of his first master, waving the boy off once his identity had been investigated. When the boat finally stopped moving about, Sven woke up, his sack shirt clinging to clammy flesh, beads of sweat coalescing at his forehead, matting his dark, wavy locks against the skin of his forehead. It was not the voice of a man that called out to him as the ship moored at the dock. It was not a voice at all. Sven was forced onto his feet from the spot on the floor he had curled up on, cold metal against the skin of his arms, gooseflesh materializing at the sensation, a shiver moving the boy's form as he looked up at the... What the... The... thing that had manhandled him so effortlessly was obviously not human. What was it? Fear was overridden by a deep sense of curiosity, the boy reaching out to touch the metal on its arm before the golem shook, pushing the boy in front of him and leading him on towards the exit of the ship. He had been the only one left inside, the only one who had found sleep in the Gods-forsaken corner of the slave ship. Sven allowed a deep breath to fill his lungs, the boy attempting to subvert the inevitable rolling of nerves that was the next slave gathering, where he, and other slaves, would be lined up like cattle to be chosen from, and this place... Sahova, did not look like the friendliest of places. When he was led on to the outside of the ship, the boy not quite paying attention to where he was being led off to as the sight of the citadel came into view, the boy loosing an audible gasp as wonder filled his mind. It was so... big! And interesting! The boy wished he could explore it, but odds on, that wasn't going to happen. The place reeked of danger, and his Master may not allow him to wander. But, Sven would make the best of his life in this place. He always did.

[Michel]

3, Winter

The snow was falling slowlie and almost without moshen. Michels breath was making white clouds, witch faded in the salty sea ear. Minute by minute the boy sailed closer and closer to the city of magic, to the city of dead. Sahova. Grom by his side moaned unapproving. The child looked at his companion again.
-What is it Grom? This city isn't so bad. I know, you think it is too dangerous for me, but where else I could learn summoning?
The big figure turned his tired, blue eyes over his friends son and repeated again what he was saying all week.
-Like I told you there is many places for you to study. Why here? In this place you have the biggest danger and it shurlie isn't the place for your age. We don't even know if I will be able to stay with you. I will say the truth-I am scared about you.
Michel smiled to comfort his friend. Grom always, from the moment he made the agreement with his father, was trying to take care of the little boy. Sometimes he succeed, sometimes not, but he was always trying. This time the warrior will fail.
-Sorry Grom, but I need to do it. Sahova is my best chance and I can't let it go. You know that you can always leave me and go somewhere you want. I am not holding you here.
The man just looked at him sadly and didn't say a word until they reached the shore.

Both figures steped out of the ship and took an moment to think every thing true. Now came the moment to realise that this all was a big mistake and Michel should go home. For Groms disappointment it did not happen, but the little summoner with wide smile said.
-Isn't this place wounderful. Can you feel the djed in the air. I have a feeling that I will like this place.
Grom could not understand humans. Can not they see that djed and magic it self is not something to play with. His little companion was so young, to young for this dangerous activities. But there was nothing for him to do to change it. He can only give advise and protect. It was all.

[Abel Rayne]

5th Winter, 513 AV

The vessel had no peculiar smells when they had left Nyka. After the length of their sail, the boat was beginning to reek of death, even with the preservatives around the bodies. The crew had tried to keep the room's temperature low as they could but with such a long sail, there was no hope. The stench had bothered Abel when the body's aromas first started leaking from the lower quarters. After the second day of malodor, the urge to vomit from the combination of sea sickness and the overpowering scent of dead had subsided. He was now bowed over the boat's edge as waves of dark waters bashed off the vessel watching the island become larger with each passing wave.

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be filled with more excitement or fear. Either way, he was filled with the pair. Aware why he came here but unaware why he left his home, he reflected the thought as starred into the depths of the sea. Maybe because nothing was there besides his mother and two siblings? He didn't want to think of this right now but it was near impossible to get the thoughts from his mind. Even throughout his childhood he always thought before acting. This may have been the first time he hadn't contemplated his actions before going through with them. Even if not, it was surely the largest occurrence of spontaneous action. He was a man of rationality, not emotions. This adventure had emotional written all over it.

My god, it's huge, he told himself as the crew members grabbed onto ropes, preparing to latch onto the dock. When he heard the word 'island' the thought of a small sandy beach with a palm tree in the center came to mind. This was no island, it was an undead fortress. A gust of wind had caught his hood, draping it down his back. The long osseous fingers upon his hand brushed through long strands of stringy hair to remove it from his slim face, only to reveal flesh that is pale as the dead that walked this land.

Abel knew it didn't take his minor skills in Auristics to sense the sheer volume of Djed pulsating from the isle. He had heard tales of the magic forces that was produced from Sahova but this wasn't just a magic force. A magic force was feeling a wizard performing magic and generating an aura. I've never felt something so.. strong before Abel thought, there is no way that a society of this size could create this. The air and the land feel fertile with Djed. It's everywhere. He turned to the sailor next to him who was slinging rope around a pillar that bolstered the dock. "Do you feel that?" The man let out a chuckle from his stomach. "Aye. This is accursed land, my son. I've sailed this island more times tha' I can count on my hands an' feet. The feelin' never goes."

After the boater pulled in the galley and tied it up, he looked over to Abel retiring onto the dock and emanated a sharp whistle. "You be careful up there, son" he called out in an eerie voice that meant to give Abel a fright. Abel stopped in his tracks and tossed up his hood "I'm not your son" he whispered under his breath as he followed the muscle from the ship who carried bodies hard as a board and cold to the touch.

[Razkar]

2nd Day of Spring, 514AV
11th Bell

"This is... wrong..."

"Agreed."

Usually Marec would have shown his surprise at hear the Myrian not only understand the language of his people, but answer him in the same tongue. He would perhaps have been a little suspicious; even made a note to politely chastise Edreina later for giving the savage privy to their ways.

Not that morning. The mist roled away and for once the sailor wished it hadn't. What it revealed stole the breath from him. Not just the sight of it, but the sheer... absence.

Of life. Of movement. Of noise. Like every living thing had been snatched away just after breakfast and left a whole island bare.

"Not even gulls." He said in Common, shaking his head and fingering a talisman his mother gave him years before. "That is strangest of all."

Razkar frowned out over the prow and tried to pick out some flash or flicker, but the three piers were bare. He shook his head; surely this couldn't be right.

"Do you think something... happened?"

Marec bit out a bleak, short laugh and shook his head: "Y'know, I asked the captain the same thing, first time we were by this way. She said it's always like this. At least until you dock..."

"Then what happens."

Marec gripped his talisman tighter. "You'll see."

There were, at least, other craft at harbor. A handful of small vessels, mostly fishing boats, with a yacht or two that looked like they'd been tied up for some time. Residents, Razkar privately assumed as the Svefra began throwing lines ashore and lashing them to the pier, this place has riches beyond Syliras, they say. But I don't see their kind going for a pleasure cru-

Then he saw it, or heard it. A weird, mechanical trundling sound, like a cart made of metal. It clanked over the ground, so monotonous that the Myrian knew it had to be some kind of vehicle...

He peered into the mists, as behind him his partner and lover briefed their trio of clients and bought them to the top deck. Seized by his curiosity, Razkar listened to the whispers and strode off onto the deck, walking towards the wobbling thing that was creaking towards them.

"Myri's bloody teats..."

His jaw dropped when he saw it. A cart it certainly was not. An oblong construct of metal and wood, rolling on six uneven wheels, with a head like a metal bust nailed onto the top as if an afterthought. It rolled clear up to them and Razkar's hands went for his weapons out of instinct, but the device simply stopped and-

-spoke. To him. In Common.

"Welcome to Sahova. Identify yourselves and state the purpose of your visit. If you are carrying cargo, provide a full description and unload a sample for evaluation. Any passengers wishing to be escorted to the Citadel must approach me and apply for permission."

"Fuck me."

"Description not recognized. Please clarify."

But the Myrian was far too dumbstruck for that. He circled and craned his head up and down at the queer contraption, wondering where the rider was... or if there even was one. The voice seemed to come from inside the body, not the head, and...

"Do you run on djed? Or do you have... a horse in you, or some such thing?"

"Description not recognized. Please clarify."

Razkar rolled his eyes and lamented the featureless golem probably wouldn't even grasp the gesture. All his life he'd heard tales of lumbering giants, like clay trolls, and now he was in the barbarian world, what did he find?

Clay pigeons (literally, just ask Ignotus) and horseless carts that talked.

They'll never believe this at home.

"My comrade and I-" he gestured to himself and then to the flaming-haired Edreina "-are mercenaries, escorting these three young folk-" the trio of Denvali were next, huddled together and closer to Edreina out of instincts, knapsacks full of precious, carefully-maintained books clasped to their chests "-to your island. They wish to study with the Dead Wa-... ah, the Nuit. We have no cargo."

He waited patiently as the machine... well, did nothing, to be honest with you. It bubbled and hissed from the Goddess-knew what organs it had and Razkar was left waiting for the mechanical sphinx to speak again.

"Lads?" He gestured up at his lover, partner and their charges, beckoning them closer. "He said step forward and apply. I don't think the crew will be going anywhere."

The first mate rubbed his talisman as he jumped back to the deck like the pier was made of flame.

"Too bloody right..."

Edreina made her move as well, but Razkar put up a hand that was not to be argued with. "Stay with the ship for now." He said firmly, plowing on without a care as her brow furrowed. "I'll take them in, won't be long. I need you here. No arguments, female. We're not going anywhere."

"Yeah, more's the sodding pity."

Razkar rolled his eyes and made a note to speak to the captain. Grumbling was an underling's privilege, no matter where they were, but for Myri's sake, you did so quietly, and not in front of customers.

"Lesa? Franz? Cenzo? Grab your goods and come with me."

They did as they were told, moving over the deck with a lot more sureness than they did when they first got on the Calypso in Zeltiva. Like Razkar, they'd had plenty of time on ships, and now they could pass for Svefra when they wanted to.

They stuck together, and Razkar gave them a small smile of approval at the sight. They kept the female in the middle, taller brother quietly, firmly grasping her hand, the younger one casting his eyes around, looking for hiding places, concealed enemies...

But all of them, all, were soon fixated on the rising mound of ancient stone beyond the fog. Vast and terrible and wonderful... the Citadel of The Dead Walkers.

"Alright," Razkar said with a nonchalant sigh, or what he hoped was one. "Lead the way... er... whatever."

If the golem was capable of taking offence, it didn't show it. Instead it executed a careful, precise three-point turn and started to trundle away at just over walking distance, forcing the Myrian and his "Svefra" charges to walk swiftly to keep up. At the end of ther pier he cast a look over his shoulder, seeing the flame-haired female standing on the prow, watching him with envious eyes.

Razkar smiled and gave her a quick wave.

Plenty of time, female. But business first.