Location [Syliras Entrance] The Main Gates

[Violet Y'laerth]

42nd of Summer, 515 AV

Violet walked down the beaten path to the main gate of Syliras, her backpack clinking just a little with the sounds of metal pans. Being no stranger to travel, Violet kept her gear packed tight with canvas wrapped around her utensils and pots, which helped on the long road to keep them from chipping and saved space in her pack. Her cloak lie draped over her pack, the sun shining down through the clear blue skies keeping her warm, her back in particular a little too warm.

The gate seemed a little disappointing. For being the biggest settlement in all of Mizahar, Syliras' front door wasn't nearly as towering or intimidating as she'd expected. It was almost welcoming, in a way; though for one who had spent the last several years travelling from town to town, she had seen more gates than most, and their luster had worn off quite a while ago. Violet was approached by a pair of guards from the front gate. Another nice feature of having travelled to many different places was the initial apprehension of being approached by multiple grim men in full armor faded over time. She no longer felt the fear of making a mistake as there were so few to make. In fact, she felt almost confident entering cities, though she made sure to never be cocky.

"Halt, state your name and business in Syliras" one of the guards barked.

"I am Violet Y'laerth, I've come to tr-" she stopped herself, mid-sentence. Living with a travelling trade caravan, it was a response she knew by rote, but this time it was different.
"-to seek residence in the city of Syliras." She finished.

The guard looked her up and down, and began reciting his own memorized words no doubt spoken dozens of times a day.
"While staying in Syliras you are expected to conduct yourself in a civilized manner. Live life with honor. Respect the rule of the Syliran Knights. Retribution for wrongdoing will be swift."

Violet felt like nodding off, not simply because she was tired, but because she was tired of hearing the same sermon for the umpteenth time. At least this time it was short, no doubt due to the high traffic the city likely drew. The guards stepped aside and gestured into the city, and Violet bowed politely and stepped into the most miraculous adventure of her life.

[Larka Faux]

50th of Summer, 515 AV

I'm finally here, Larka thought to himself as he gazed upon the city of Syliras far in the distance. Larka had been able to see Syliras for a while now, but even with his increased vision at night he was only able to make out the small dots of lights in the distance. Everything else was just an indistinguishable smudge that blended in with the night's horizon. Now, however, he could finally distinguish between the city itself and the landscape around it. Larka shivered in anticipation and pulled his cloak tighter against his thin frame. This wasn't to fight off the cold as it was a cool summer night. Instead it was to distract him from his screaming, aching muscles. Despite all his years in the troupe he's never punished his body as hard as he done tonight. He knew very well that the next morning was going to be nothing but pain.

The moon was still quite high in the sky when Larka finally arrived at the main gate of Syliras. Despite all the times he's seen this very gate during his travels with the troupe he's always found himself to be somewhat awed by the enormous wooden doors and wondered just how exactly anyone would be able to open and close such heavy doors.

"Halt, state your name and business in Syliras" shouted a voice to Larka's right which immediately broke him out of his thoughts. He quickly shook his head at an attempt to put his thoughts back in order.

"Name and business?" Larka questioned very briefly, "Oh right my name and business here! Yes, sorry, uh my name's Larka Fauns and I'm, er, looking for a place to settle down for a while." This was the story and name Larka had ran through his mind dozens upon dozens of times as he had began approaching the city. He figured it would be best not to use the surname he was given just in case these guards encounter the troupe that was long behind him.

"While staying in Syliras you are expected to conduct yourself in a civilized manner. Live life with honor. Respect the rule of the Syliran Knights. Retribution for wrongdoing will be swift." The guard said after a brief moment of inspection.

"Ah, before I go in, erm, do you know where I should go to get a night's sleep?" Larka asked quickly before he set off into the city. The guard simply grunted and pointed in the general direction of Traveler's Row.

"Head thataway and you'll find yourself in front of Traveler's Row. From there you can find all sorts of inns and taverns. I recommend staying at the White Swan Inn there for the night. Night's not so safe especially for a kid like you. Now hurry along now."

The guards stepped aside and let Larka pass, and he nodded at them happily as he quickly made his way into the city. Here was the first steps to a new life. A new world had just opened itself up for him just waiting for him to dive in headlong. Whether or not he finishes his story unscathed was completely up to fate.

[Rhuryc]

10th of Summer, 515AV Rhuryc's foot itched. Maybe burned, more like. He dragged the sole of his boot across the road outside of the fortress city while watching a gaggle of farmers fuss over a broken cart blockading the main gate. A gruff, wizened fellow yelled at a younger version of himself as the latter insisted he fixed the wheel before their departure. Rhuryc felt a familiar twinge in the back of his mind. How many years now? Three, at least; not much appeared different. From the towering walls to the bored, if dutiful, Knights on watch, the solid stones of his birthplace remained set in their ways. Yet the city seemed brighter. Set with new purpose, the rumors spoke of reborn marks, perhaps a grandeur that spoke beyond stewards of a dead God. And beneath it all Rhuryc's foot still burned. He grunted and lifted his leg, balancing the weighted pack and making a ruckus of dangling accessories and a weathered sword hilt. Once steady, he gingerly slipped his boot off. His nose twitched. An odor unlike any the god's knew emanated from a wrapped foot, but Tyveth be damned if that was to stop him. The relief was palpable. Rhuryc sighed and his shoulders slumped with the incessant itching. He spent perhaps a moment too long tending to his unwashed foot before the silence hit him. No yelling, no begging defense. He lifted his head and pushed away a mass of matted, unkempt hair to meet the gaze of a befuddled group of onlookers. "Ah," he grinned, his heavy baritone bereft of embarrassment. "You folks all sorted out then? I have an important date with a tub, you know." One of the guards snorted. It felt good to be home.

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

Timestamp: Summer of 515 AV, 64

Ferrin strides towards the main gate. Ferrin slows down his stallion, a beautiful dark grey zavian. Ferrin notices a guard at the main gate and steps off his horse and pats the soft hairy head "I promise I'll buy you a lot of apples boy." Ferrin walks his horse by pulling the reins and stops to where the entrance of the main gates are. Ferrin doesn't seem to be much of a threat though his royal blue cloak looks a bit intimidating when he is wearing it.
A few of the gatekeepers have came towards Ferrin to check him two of them have checked his possessions and the other has checked Ferrin prevent Ferrin assaulting Sylria in any way, shape, or form.




"Hello officer," as one of the gatekeepers come towards him.
"State name, and business to why you are visiting Sylria." The guard asks.
Ferrin inhales a breath of thought, and states that "I have traveled far and I wish to seek to become part of the Sylrias Knight brigade. My name is Ferrin Al'Mandrikan and I also need directions to which I can get an employment application and to find the stables."
None of the guards had known of this Ferrin Al' Mandrikan before. " Alright keep your commentary on the good side of the conversation and wait here please, and thank you for your cooperation young man."
As the guards walks back to the gatehouse to get confirmation forums Ferrin takes that moment to open up his locket that holds an image of Ferrins family smiling through the photograph. He sighs thinking about home. Then Ferrins stallion gives a quiet wine and rubs his head against the shoulder of Ferrin, then gives a short snort that sounded like a sneeze."Bless you Cyrus," Ferrin says as he wipes off his face and shoulder with his cloak.
One of the guards is returning and Ferrin puts his locket carefully inside one of his pockets in his cloak. Ferrin also notices some papers that the guard is holding, and he assumes that he would need to sign them to get in the city. (If there is such thing).

[Aiyana Ottano]

Timestamp: the 7th of summer, 515AD

The sun stooped low in the fading light as a trickle of people hurried into the city of Sylira, cloaks gripped tightly against their bodies, eager to reach their homes before the night fell. No one wanted to be far from the sanctity of a tavern, or a fireplace, or, indeed, a loved one at this hour. Nights in the wilderness of Mizahar could be dangerous.

Somewhere, hidden in the branches of a large Oak, hid Aiyana; she had spent the day there, observing the happenings of the fortified city. Her sharp eyes followed every passerby and her tufted ears had listened to every conversation, be it idle gossip or secret information passed between nights. Aiyana had heard it all.

Sylira was one of the wealthiest and most populuous cities of Mizahar and wealth, Aiyana knew, made people selfish. No one would pay much mind to her here. She would much have preferred to remain in the wilderness, but prey was difficult to come by these days. More than that, she needed somewhere to store her flute, the only possession she had left from her childhood. The beloved wooden instrument was nestled in her cloak in the hollow base of the tree, hidden from human sight. The main reason she had chosen Sylira, however, was for the bustle and activity of its crowds. Here, she might finally be able to forget the raw pain she felt over the loss of her bondmate.

Aiyana did not really believe she could ever forget, not even when the grave took her, but she had to try. She had been happy once and perhaps she could be happy again. Yes, Sylira would do. It would have to. There was nowhere else she could go.

She took another glance at skies: the silvery moon was just peeking out from beyond the hilltops, its light oozing across Sylira and bathing it in a queer glow.

It was time.

Aiyana leapt down from the tree, transforming into her human form. She carefully picked up her flute and cradled it in her arms, bundling her cloak around her as she did so. Sucking in a deep breath, she made towards the city gates. The stone gates towered over her as she edged forwards.

Two guards stood either side of the gate, spears stood erect beside them. They wore serious expressions as they peered at her through dark eyes. She stood still, watching for a moment as their eyes scanned the length of her body, and back up again.

"Are you ill, girl?"

Aiyana shook her head. As she did so, the hood of her cloak slipped down and the guards stared at the silver halo of hair falling across her shoulders.

"Kelvic," One of them hissed. "Look at her eyes."

The other guard appraised her slowly, still seeming wary. Aiyana waited patiently- it was always so with humans. Her pale skin was often mistaken for illness. Finally, he nodded.

"State your name."

"Aiyana."

"Pretty name, that. What's your occupation? You won't survive here in Sylira without some kind of job, girl, but in my experience the Kelvic are..."

"A little dim-witted?" The other guard supplied.

They both chuckled.

"Aye. Dim-witted."

"I can play the flute."

"Fancy yourself as a bit of a performer, do you?" The guard eyed her instrument and Aiyana's hand tightened around it.

"Well, go on in. None of that funny business with the animal thing, either. We're a respectable sort, around here. "

She made to slip past them, pulling her cloak once more over her face, but one of them, the one who had commented about her being dim-witted, grabbed her arm and she froze. Aiyana had not felt the touch of a human in well over a year. A warmth that was both wonderful and terrible swept through her. For a moment, she could remember all too well the touch of Vikar's fingers ghosting across her skin.

"Where is your master? It's rare to see a lone Kelvic."

Aiyana wrenched her arm away.

"I have no master." She whispered.

And then she was gone, lost in the shadows as the guards stared after her through the darkness.

[Malakath Grimm]

Malakath was returning to Syliras with his patrol of squires, a lot of them ragged looking from the trip. But not Malakath, if he was to impress he was going to look chipper and responsive the entire way round. The guards stopped and examined the ragtag group of squires and instantly began throwing out orders to the group. Yet none of them to him imparticular. Telling them to stand in formation, stand up straight! Don't slouch! Calling them worthless and making comments about how all of the recrits they get now are a disgrace to the order.

That's when the pair of knights look to eachother and walk over to the nineteen year old and clang his helmet with the blunt edge of their sword "And you! Relax kid. We're just messing around, what's your name son?" he said with a grin.

Malakath being the way he was replied with a loud "Sir Yes sir, Squire Malakath Grimm sir!" He was nervous mostly. Having been asked such a direct question by a random knight meant that he could be in some sort of inspection. He kept eye contact with the knight and awaited a response which in hindsight didn't take long at all but to Malakath it seemingly took months.

"Kid, I've got one thing to say to you ... " The night said slowly and raised a finger accusingly before pressing it into Malakath's forehead with such little force. Malakath however fell over "Take that stick out of your arse kid! eriously, you are far too rigid, you need to relax a bit more otherwise as I just showed you, anything can take you down."

Malakath felt embarassed however none of the other squires laughed, just the two knights guarding the main entrance. "Thank you for the advice sirs" Malakath said sheepishly as he got up and dusted himself off. After which the two guards let them pass and Malakath said to them rather nicely. "Thank you for your advice sirs!" and they made their way back to the barracks with a quick march.

[Morgan Donne]

2 Summer 515AV

"It's petching grand to be away from those merchants."

He was mumbling to himself around the cigar, rolled and lit at camp earlier in the day. He'd had a discussion with the wagon-master, and on learning that they'd be staying on another day he'd set off on his own.

The sun had been a bit higher in the sky then, yet here he was. He held a hand across his brow, blocking the light from his eyes. In the distance he could make out the gates of the city, and the watchtowers on either side. He chuckled around the cigar, letting plumes of smoke escape from between his lips. He plucked it from his mouth and began the final leg of his trip.

He whistled tunelessly as he walked, loping along the side of the road. A wagon passed him once and he thought about shouting out but chose to remain quiet, instead holding up a friendly hand and giving a nod as it clattered along. He could see the gates more clearly now, see the line of people waiting their turn into the city. He groaned inwardly. Probably take him the better part of the day.

He reached the back of the line without much hassle, and ended up behind the wagon from earlier. He stood to the side of it, taking advantage of the shade it provided. He smoked carelessly, taking slow steps forward as the line moved. The wagon driver gave him a long pull at a wineskin, still cool from the shadows of the wagon, for one of his cigars. It was a good trade. The wine was strong and fruity, and even mildly warm was nectar on this hot day.

When it was finally his time to face the pair of Knights he did so casually.

"Name and business?"

Morgan removed the cigar from his mouth before speaking, noting the guard's disinterest and his wandering eyes. Must've been getting on change of the watch.

"Morgan Donne. Keymaker."

With a quick, almost cursory search of his backpack and a quick once over of his physical form, the guard sent him through into the city. He replaced the cigar between his lips and smiled.

Syliras.

[Darya Backrush]

1st of Fall, 515AV

There were still a decent amount of people moving about and there was a dull roar of many voices speaking across the city as Darya made her way from the docks and along the thick main road leading from there. Shops were closing up for the night and pubs were bustling with merry makers. More Knights and some squires were also patrolling the streets, ensuring safety and security among the denizens. It was quaint if not a bit crowded, though the well-lit streets were a bit of a comfort. Once more, many of the shop keepers she passed eyed her with hidden trepidation which caused the Svefra with grin mischievously at them and waved in greeting. The looks on their faces had the young woman laughing half way through the city.

A Bell later, she had finally made it to the front gates of the city. Along the way, she had to stop several Knights to ask for directions. They hesitated but answered all the same, though always with a farewell “Stay out of trouble”. Honestly, did these people know not how to cut loose and have fun or was it just a cultural norm? It was something she would have to be mindful of as she approached a bored-looking guard.

“Ahoy, mate! I was told teh come ‘ere an’ reg’ster since I jus’ docked t’nite.” She greeted loudly enough to make the poor man jump nearly out of his skin. Though she could not understand why he glared at her in such a way while she laughed at his reaction.

Once he regained his composure, he cleared his throat as he eyed her over. “What is your name, where are you from, and what is your business in Syliras?” He recited, sounding as though he had said that very same phrase for hours that day. Which he probably had, poor bloke. Darya of course gave her name and the rest of the information he asked for, seemingly bored of the telling since she disliked repeating herself too many times

“Very well, Darya Backrush. If you do not wish to reside on your vessel, there are different places you can rent rooms from. There is the Rearing Stallion near Stormhold, if you seek companionship with your lodging the Herald’s Arms would suit your needs. Lastly, if you are of a deep pocket, the White Swan Inn is the best Inn in Syliras.”

“Ay, thank ye Mate. Me thinks I’ll jus’ stay teh me ship. Though I’ll be sure teh visit teh pub on the ‘morrow.” She then grinned and winked playfully as she turned and headed back the way she came.

“A-ah… Welcome to Syliras and stay out of mischief!” The guard called out to her retreating form. She did not stop in her swaggering steps, but did lift a hand in both farewell and acknowledgement of what he said. It was a shame that it was already dark or she would go exploring of the place she would be calling home for a short while. Plus, she didn’t exactly have much Mizas to spend in a tavern. She could always celebrate tomorrow, of course! She gradually made her way back to the ShoreLark and settled down in her cabin for the night. Sleep found her quickly as the sea gently rocked her ship, the new location filling her dreams with possible adventure and excitement.

(See the full solo here)

[Ashe]

The trip from Sunberth had been much shorter than expected, Much to her imagination, Ashe had expected to be left to die in the middle of the wilderness, to a hungry bear no less, but instead she lay half-asleep in one of the caravan wagons, bundled in a blanket, and clutching the little amount of money she had left. She eventually woke up to the sound of a knock on one of the doors mounted to the caravan wagon and the young woman unwrapped herself from the human sized cocoon to answer the door. It was the young man who pulled her to the caravan, "We're near the town and you have permission to go in separately from us because it'll take a while to go through inspection". "But whaddabout payin' for the trip?" Ashe protested, at the very least she would be willing to separate herself from the lifeline of her coin for that reason and the woman stared intently at the man's eyes. "It's fine you may go, hopefully we'll meet again sometime" The young man said and closed the door leaving the young woman to pack her things before approaching the guards. The knights that guarded the walls were an interesting sight for Ashe, To her they appeared to be statues made of shiny metal minus the helmets, and they spoke in a cleaner accent as they approached her. "Hail, What is your name and business in Syliras?" Asked the elder of the two knights. 'Business? I don't have a business...what does he mean?' Ashe thought to herself and she looked confused for a moment. "What'd you mean by business?" Ashe asked of the elder knight "Why are you here?" Answered the younger knight and Ashe became silent, thinking of a good answer as to why here. "My name is Ashe Fallwood and I'm lookin' for a place to call home" Ashe answered, earning a couple glances from the knights. "Very well you may enter" The knight finally said and the young woman walked into the city.

[Lora]

Lora approached the main gate of Syliras with a smile. It had been so long since she had last left from here on her journey to Mura. It looked oddly the same, as if no time had passed since she had left. There were a few other people streaming in through the gate, carefully watched by the knights. Lora hadn’t had far to walk from the place the wind eagle had dropped her off but with the combined weight from all of her possessions in her backpack and her satchel, she was getting a bit tired. She picked up her pace a bit hoping to get to a place she could sit down before to long. As she approached the knights one of them said, “Halt!” He barked loudly, making Lora jump a bit and replacing the smile on her face with a more neutral expression. She stopped as she was told. “State your name and reason for coming to Syliras.” “I’m Lora Seaspell and I recently left my old house to move here. I used to live here and so I decided to come back. It was a long time ago when I lived here but it looks exactly the same. Its so pretty and...” Lora’s voice died off as she saw the knights expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She felt her face growing red as she looked down at her feet and shifted awkwardly. “So, um, could I go in.” “Yes, proceed.” He said his voice lacking of emotion. Lora quickly began to walk away clutching the strap of her satchel falling across her chest. Any embarrassment that Lora had, fell away as the city came into view. It was beautiful. Not beautiful in the same way Mura was beautiful with its rising towers and glowing buildings. It was more homely, reminding Lora of her childhood. She couldn’t help but look around the city in awe as she entered it. She couldn’t wait to delve deeper into this city from her childhood.