Location The Kenash City Gates

[Gossamer]

Though the city itself is not large nor sprawling, long ago when people first came to the swamp and learned how easy food was to grow on its outskrits, they did recognize the need for protection from the wilder denizens that already inhabited the lands. So the city proper was not walled - for there was no point in that - but it was gated and fenced in a large stone and iron construct that encircles the city proper. Cypress trees grace the length of the fence, trailing moss into occasional changeable flows of stagnant water. Pathways, some only formed of crushed shell, and others raised above the threat of water, crisscross the city, leading from one structure to the next. The Gates are never properly guarded. There is no need. Instead, they are closed at sundown and reopened again at sunrise, only a minor deterrent against crocodiles and wild predators. Normally the last person through before dusk closes the gates.

[Haeli]

Fall 1, 513 AV

Haeli walked through the gates amidst a large caravan that was churning up dust on the road. She was relieved to have finally reached the swamp city, but immediately frowned when her barefeet transitioned from dirt road to crushed shell. The edges were sharp, and she hissed slightly in displeasure as she stepped to one side, unshouldered her backpack, and pulled out two soft but well worn shoes. Slipping them on, the swamp witch wiggled her toes, unhappy with the need for footwear and stepped back into the caravan's midst. Somewhere in the sea of animals and wagons, were her things. Her entire shop was packed up in the back of a wagon, having been transported from Lhavit to Riverfall by ship and then loaded onto a wagon from the great waterfall city.

She could have chosen to sail directly to Kenash, but her main concern was that she wanted to walk the length of Cyphrus with her own bare feet and get to know the land here as only a witch could. She wanted the sun on her face, the ocean on her left side, and the winds talking to her about how happy Semele was with Caiyha's living things on her. Haeli needed time to adjust, and caravan life appealed to her if only momentarily. Twenty days in the company of rolling wagons, mewing oxen, and horses that were less than happy in the heat had taken its toll. She wanted settled again, the cool moist earth of a swamp, and the hot sultry evenings so willed with life it would make her weep.

She knew what was coming though. Once they passed through the gates she needed to secure a loan, a place to live, and a shop. She would have to have her hand branded - all the traders said so - if she wanted to stay in the swamp and live free. Otherwise they would likely put a collar on her neck and control her. People here did things like that. It was a lengthy list, one that worried her, but nonetheless caused a thrill of excitement for something new.

Kenash was a new adventure. This one was with humanity and the swamp. She had high hopes for it... high hopes indeed.

[Kyra]

Fall 1, 513 AV

Kyra sat in the back of the wagon cart as it headed through the gates and into the city. It had been a long journey from Syliras and down the Kabrin road, all the way to the swampy city that she now entered. The kelvic was tired, and if not for the chattering of people along with the wagon bucking with each bumpy shell it rolled over, she might have fallen asleep. So much had happened in a short time that she was still trying to come to terms with it all.

Ghost returning from the dead, friendly faces betraying her trust, and a plot so fiendish, she wouldn't have thought it possible. But it was all true, and if what Kiara and her accomplish had said were true, then the Knights had already been informed about the man-eater in their forest. Even though it was a lie, Kiara being the real man-eater, but Kyra knew that the Knights wouldn't care. They would cut her down just for looking similar to the woman.

She could never go back..

Once again she found herself lost and seeking a new home. It was twice now that she had been forced to flee a city and live elsewhere and she was so tired of running. But there was one silver lining, in an otherwise pool of blood and tears, she was hot on Kiara's trail. Kyra had gotten so close and she knew that the other kelvic couldn't have gotten too far since the last time she saw her. Kyra would find her and finally put an end to it all. During her travel, she had happened upon a caravan heading in the same direction.

Luckily they allowed her to join them and ride the rest of the way to the city. The kelvic had learned of Kenash from Kiara, but she hadn't told her anything about the place. It came as a surprise to hear from the people on the wagons of what the place was really like. Though in truth it reminded her of Ravok in some ways. The brand sounded painful and something that she wasn't happy about in the least, but she didn't have much choice. She needed a home, she needed a new life away from the shadows of the past that kept her awake at night. Perhaps Kenash would be that home for her, a place where she could find that which she had been searching for since she lost Marcelo. Perhaps, but...

After she kills Kiara.
.

[Nevin Margaitis]

11th of Fall, 513

The swamps of Kenash called to Livi from the other side of the gate. She could feel the ghosts lingering in shadows she could not yet see. It didn’t matter. In time they would reveal themselves. Slowly, but surely.

Perhaps one would be her own mother’s, though she prayed the woman had moved on to her next life and wasn’t spending it in her nightmare space. Livi knew she wouldn’t find her mother’s spirit here, but she hoped to find the whatever was left of her secrets. It all started here. It all ended here. She pictured her father entering as he fled from what was behind him. Was hope what lingered in front of him?

When he’d come in, he had no idea that he was going to meet Livi’s mother. She was excited but slightly apprehensive at the same time. It felt like she was intruding on an intimate moment between them. Thankfully, her father had no idea that she’d come here. He never would have let her leave. Now that he was in Sunberth, he didn’t have to know.

No. This was Livi’s trip—her own adventure and the strangest mix of emotions coursed through her. As she passed through the gate, she knew she was leaving everything she could trust and the safety of Syliras behind her, for what felt like the last time.

[Latch]

Fall 3, 513 AV The sun's steady rays beat on in oppressive heat as Jericho approached Kenash's gates. Brackish water filled in small pools around the path, and the graceful limbs of Cypress tree's offered brief sanctuary from the dry heat which filled the air. The smell of the swap was overpowering to those who were not accustomed, and Jericho was to be counted among that group. With a weary sigh, Jericho stopped to gather his bearings. His legs, fatigued from travel, cried for a brief respite from the arduous movement, and Jericho was more than happy to oblige them. Setting his back against the sturdy trunk of a nearby tree, Jericho wondered what lay in store for him inside Kenash. After twenty years of aimless, blissful wandering, his journey had finally come to an end. He had grown tired of the the nomadic lifestyle, so tired of never staying long enough to form a connection with anyone. And now here he was, on the precipice of change, ready to leap into one last grand adventure. A dragonfly floated lazily by his face, diverting his attention from his introspection. A small grin grew on his face as it drifted past, securing itself above him on the tree. It was a sign of good luck, that dragonfly, and it was undoubtedly a good omen for his new life in Kenash. Leaning against his staff for support, and adjusting his father's hat, Jericho stood up and strode confidently in Kenash with a joyful spring in his step.

[Oworo Birdflight]

35th day of Winter, 513 AV Oworo arrived at the gate of Kenash just as Syna reached her peak in the sky. Oman shook his head once, scattering the strange flies that had landed on him. The Drykas patted the horse softly on his neck, silently thanking him for his diligence. He had ridden long for Oworo for two fortnights as he made his way up the Kabin Road. The trip had been unplanned, a spur of the moment decision by Oworo, but his horse had done well regardless. And now they had finally arrived, so a long rest would soon be in order. Oworo stared at the Cypress trees that had grown along the fence, taking in the oddity; trees were few and far between in this region, and they always intrigued the Drykas whenever he found himself near them. Yet these were normal compared to the sights he had seen earlier in his trip. The road had taken him through several of the plantations, straight through a field of bamboo. Now that had intrigued the Drykas as he ran his hand along the plants, in awe of how strange they were. It was then, hands gripping the bamboo, that he decided his life wasn't normal anymore. The death of his family, slavery under the Zith, even living among the Akalak . . . none of that felt off for Oworo, because he had known his whole life that any of those three could happen. But if someone had told Oworo he'd be riding among a forest of grass that was hard as wood, he would've told him they were crazy. But, just as Oworo had done with everything else, he moved on. He had learned long ago that life wouldn't be normal for him. Better to just face it head high and eyes always wary. When the first citizens of the city saw this lone Drykas ride in, they saw him straight-backed atop his horse, watching them as hard as they were watching him. Thus began his life in Kenash.

[Ilosk]

4th Day of Winter, 513 AV Syna was barely halfway toward her throne when Ilosk reached the gate. Kenashern thought it was pointless to build a wall to protect their city. They barred their territory with iron fence instead. The Pycon himself could not help but wonder where part of this region that was wilder -- here outside the boundary of the iron bar or just inside there. It wasn't the first time he set his foot towards the swampy city. He knew the gate, piled orderly and carved into a perfect angle most probably by the hands of slaves. he did remember the cool shade of the cyphress tree giivng a false impression that welcomed you to enter the boundary, not realizing the perils. He did know the pavements of crushed shell that seemed to gleamed under Syna's glory. Most of all, he remembered the city, a pack of chaos just beside Kenash river. It was the place that kept his darker side forever. Kenash was where Esgabad Baghir, his last master disappeared without a trace. A tickle of shiver crawled his back and setting a frown to rose upon his face. He hated the city. Last time he resided there he was not different than a slave. Trapped, tormented body and soul, unwillingly serving the master in vain. But that was long time ago. Now everything was different. He had something to be done here inside the boundary of Kenash. A very specific goal that would gave him a whole life pleasure. Smiling grimfully now, he entered the rock gate and stepped the pavement of coral pink shell. Sharp pieces of the shell didn't hurt his foot for the clay substance was soft and easy to reshape. Tiny puncture was not a problem at all. He still had a long way to go --at least it was long enough for a Pycon-- and he didn't hesitate. Drawing his thick wing slightly backward and hung it in the mid air for extra balance, the Pycon started a quick paced stride toward the city.

[Aril]

31st Day of Spring, 514 AV Late afternoon painted the sky with rose and deepening blue. Though the sun still hovered on the horizon, beneath the trees, torches were already being lit, the chill of night creeping in across the swampy land. The nocturnal world was already starting to come alive, a symphony of bugs invisibly striking up their songs. Sensitive red eyes picking out the pinpoints of light in the growing gloom, Aril navigated the treetops on silent wings. The kelvic ached, every muscle in her avian body sore, dark feathers dusty from the time on the road. She longed for rest, and each wingbeat lagged, but she didn’t dare sleep out in the woods. The power of flight carried her far each day, but the disadvantage was that she always reached the edge of known territory by the time night fell. It was imperative that she make it to Kenash before then. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sort of situation. In the years since she left Kalinor, chased out by her would-be master, the dusty road was all she knew. She’d ranged far and wide, from Kalinor’s mouth to Alvadas to Wind Reach. A boat took her across the Suvan, and then Cyphrus became her new haunting grounds, if it could even be called that. And in all those places, she found nothing. Nothing that mattered to her. At this point, she didn’t think Kenash would be any different. But maybe it was worth a try. Before long, the twin torches framing the city gates came into view through hanging moss and dark wood. Graced with a second wind, she arrowed for the arch, fluttering as she came to its apex. Dropping the small bag she carried in two claws, she settled heavily on the keystone. The owl did not escape notice, her mottled tan feathers standing out against the dark, and those city folk who’d been in the process of closing the gate looked on askance. The eagle-owl was larger by far than any owl native to the bayous around Kenash. She’d come across a few in her travels, maybe even eaten one or two, and they were tiny. Thus, she stood out, but at this point, the kelvic didn’t care. What would they do? Warbling softly, she didn’t immediately move, feather’s fluffing out as she settled. Suddenly, she felt as heavy as a stone, and didn’t want to move. But it seemed impolite to set down stakes right here… So, she spread her huge wings again and glided to a nearby rooftop. This was good. She was here, she made it, she could probably rest… Just for a little bit. Feathers fluffing out again, gathering warmth, the kelvic tucked her head beneath her wings and fell asleep at the city gates.

[None]

Spring 1st 514

Dank muck caked against the sides of the wrought iron gate. It's twisted metal reminded Finn more of a cage than a gate. Gates kept people out, cages, well, cages did the other thing. He rubbed his neck, and felt the small of it where his throat bounced as he swallowed. He was glad he hadn't been born a dog Kelvic, or a pig. Things with good senses of smell. The mere aroma of the fetid and stagnant pools around this area made Finn queasy. He never understood why muddy, opaque waters filled with spawning mosquitoes was called "fresh" water. But, hey, people had weird habits. He could turn into an orca- or a human, depending- so he wasn't one to go in for knocking on people's personal lives. Long as it didn't cross him. Kenash though. This place was one you had to watch. It would definitely cross you, if you let it. A little Kelvic boy like him, roaming the streets? That could turn messy, especially since he was sporting one of them super special "brands" everyone around this town seemed to like. He considered it. No, probably not. There was only one mark he was interested in, and it wasn't that of any man, so he'd just have to cut out of here before the next moon came around or risk getting the hot iron. Or worse, the cold ones. He rubbed his throat again. Not something he was interested in.

[Roscoe]

72nd of Spring, 514 AV It took Roscoe a moment to realize that his horse had stopped moving. It felt like he’d been on the Kabrin road for an eternity. He had resigned himself to spending the day watching the ground move past and smoking his pipe. It was a soothing combination- watching the ground just keep on moving, his hat tipped down over his eyes to block the suns light, and smoking the tobacco he’d picked up in Syliras. That was probably why everything blurred together the whole trip, and why it had taken him so long to realize he wasn’t moving anymore. As he pulled the pipe out of his mouth, he was left with that strange feeling you get when something sits in there too long, like you’re taking off a piece of you. It had gone out long ago but he found he was still instinctively making small pulls at a regular pace, no matter how hard he tried to stop. He lifted his gaze gradually from the ground and raised the front of his hat, until it was tilted over the back of his head rather than the front. It was a gate. For a moment he was completely taken aback by the existence of anything but grass and road, but as he adjusted to being aware of the world around him again, he slowly pieced it together. The sound of running water was audible at this distance. And he thought he could hear the bustle of a town. “This must be Kenash!” He exclaimed, taking a moment to adjust his jaw and spit that rotten tasting saliva that builds up when you don’t talk for too long. He quickly stretched his arms to get the feeling back in them, packed and lit his pipe, and took a deep pull. Letting the smoke roll ever so slowly out of his mouth, he took a moment to consider what he might find here, when his thoughts were interrupted by a strange blue beetle landing square on his forehead. This caused him to suddenly inhale the pipe smoke and led into a coughing fit. Somewhere in the commotion, his horse decided it was time to keep moving, and together they marched into Kenash.