9th of Winter, 515 AV
Nyka was starting to grow on Pulren. There was something very blunt and honest about it that he appreciated. Take Sunberth. Sure, it's full of poor people, murderers, rapists and dirt, but it lacked the magical feel of other places Pulren had visited. On the flipside, Sahova was nothing but magic, a stern and usually undead face staring at you from the darkened mists of whatever magics made that sort of thing. Zeltiva had been a nice happy medium, but as it was home, it both held a special place in the man's heart and also hung on his shoulders like a well worn cloak. Sometimes you need a new cloak.
One thing was for sure, Nyka didn't lack in things to do. The great, grand scar through the heart of the city was tempting enough. The austere monks that ruled the city made a point to honor and worship the tear in Mizahar and yet there were always these rope ladders hanging from the bridges, as if to dare a person to descend into the unknown. Winter wasn't really a good time for such a leap, but maybe when it warmed up. The monks were an odd lot, really particular about their specific rules. Pulren had run in with one of the Uphis monks almost right away upon entering.
Apparently, Uphis, one of the four Celestials, or half Gods, that ran the city, ruled over blades. Good domain to run but unfortunately it meant that only the monks that served Uphis were allowed to carry blades of any sort. His kukri had been confiscated, though he was assured that when he left the city it would be returned to him. They had failed to notice the only blade of any worth to Pulren, that being the folded straight razor he kept in his boot. It was almost as favored a weapon as his beloved trident. Almost. He had chosen to continue wearing the empty scabbard as a way of showing these monks that he had complied, while also misdirecting them from the mundane item that he often wielded when blood had to be spilled in volume.
The weather was miserable but familiar. Pulren had spent all of his time thus far in coastal cities or islands and Winter would just lay on you, wet and blustery. He was happy to find out that the walls of the city prevented the same gales like the Bonesnapper of Zeltiva, but it didn't take the chill out much. He hadn't purchased the furs he would need for long term work in the coldest season. His studded leather armor and cloak were suitable but damp, his shield and trident in hand as usual as he made his way toward the central Celestial Square in the middle of Nyka.
The crowd was thickening as he approached the tower in the center of the city. It was impressive and also carried lines of those who wished to bring business to the Celestials for whatever reasons. The lines were long enough that Pulren suspected he should have a really good reason before camping out. Everyone's heads were pointed up, however, as what was clearly a shark was flying in circles around the large structure. Yes, a shark. It looked like a bull shark, the kind that whalers sometimes caught and brought in for sale in Zeltiva. A big fella, circling as easily and lazily as if in some coastal shallows.
Nyka was starting to grow on Pulren. There was something very blunt and honest about it that he appreciated. Take Sunberth. Sure, it's full of poor people, murderers, rapists and dirt, but it lacked the magical feel of other places Pulren had visited. On the flipside, Sahova was nothing but magic, a stern and usually undead face staring at you from the darkened mists of whatever magics made that sort of thing. Zeltiva had been a nice happy medium, but as it was home, it both held a special place in the man's heart and also hung on his shoulders like a well worn cloak. Sometimes you need a new cloak.
One thing was for sure, Nyka didn't lack in things to do. The great, grand scar through the heart of the city was tempting enough. The austere monks that ruled the city made a point to honor and worship the tear in Mizahar and yet there were always these rope ladders hanging from the bridges, as if to dare a person to descend into the unknown. Winter wasn't really a good time for such a leap, but maybe when it warmed up. The monks were an odd lot, really particular about their specific rules. Pulren had run in with one of the Uphis monks almost right away upon entering.
Apparently, Uphis, one of the four Celestials, or half Gods, that ran the city, ruled over blades. Good domain to run but unfortunately it meant that only the monks that served Uphis were allowed to carry blades of any sort. His kukri had been confiscated, though he was assured that when he left the city it would be returned to him. They had failed to notice the only blade of any worth to Pulren, that being the folded straight razor he kept in his boot. It was almost as favored a weapon as his beloved trident. Almost. He had chosen to continue wearing the empty scabbard as a way of showing these monks that he had complied, while also misdirecting them from the mundane item that he often wielded when blood had to be spilled in volume.
The weather was miserable but familiar. Pulren had spent all of his time thus far in coastal cities or islands and Winter would just lay on you, wet and blustery. He was happy to find out that the walls of the city prevented the same gales like the Bonesnapper of Zeltiva, but it didn't take the chill out much. He hadn't purchased the furs he would need for long term work in the coldest season. His studded leather armor and cloak were suitable but damp, his shield and trident in hand as usual as he made his way toward the central Celestial Square in the middle of Nyka.
The crowd was thickening as he approached the tower in the center of the city. It was impressive and also carried lines of those who wished to bring business to the Celestials for whatever reasons. The lines were long enough that Pulren suspected he should have a really good reason before camping out. Everyone's heads were pointed up, however, as what was clearly a shark was flying in circles around the large structure. Yes, a shark. It looked like a bull shark, the kind that whalers sometimes caught and brought in for sale in Zeltiva. A big fella, circling as easily and lazily as if in some coastal shallows.
