Location The Amaranthine Gate

[Saga]

Ship sailed in gracefully into the port. Finally Saga was done with small confines of the ship. He stepped off the ship and onto the port and stretched. Getting the feeling back in his bones from the weird unsettling feeling of being on a ship. He looked up and saw that there were steps that led those to the Amaranthine Gates. The path wounded past a shack as well, as Saga walked up the path. He took a curious look at the shack, as it was made of some type of glass he was unfamiliar with, but now very interested in. An older man came out of the shack. Introduced himself as Hachia the guide. He asked if the young Akontak needed a guide. In which Saga nodded, he was very unfamiliar with Kalea Region. And this would be his first time in one of its cities. They made their way up the path until they saw the gates. And on either side of them were two Shinya guards. Impressively standing guard, one of them asked Saga as he drew near. "Hail, what brings you to Lhavit?" "I've come to become a student." The guard nodded, it wasn't uncommon. They nodded to each other and the other began to open the gates. Saga thanked the old man and the guards and made his way into Lhavit.

[Fabell]

1st of Fall, 519 AV

The afternoon came quietly. As he rode along the gravely stone paths, the young man felt the shiver of the mist inside his bones, something he suddenly remembered feeling the night he got lost in the Eyktol, all those years ago, with nothing but the cloak on his back and a pair of leather sandals.

While he traded the sandals for a pair of leather boots for his trip to the Star City, the cloak remained on his back, still protecting him, still guarding him from the piercing chill of the fog slowly curling over the jagged and swollen peaks that rose all around him, piercing at their peaks into a brilliant shimmer of sunlit colors and dazzling sculptures.

He then remembered visiting the market at Ahnatep as a child, climbing to a tower above the main plaza, and watching the clouds from Zindal Bay roll over each other like wrestling giant gods high in the sky, as if the Ukalas lifted their bright curtains and gave a glimpse of the divine playground.

Yet here, among the mud and grass and fadeong trees that line the path and populate the mountain with violet silver pointillism, the skyglass crowns which adorn the five peaks of the Star City glow in the anticipation of the afternoon light, Syne's fire erupting within them and spilling across the blue skies and shimmering down the steep inclines of the mountains themselves. The young man's breath caught in his throat; forcing himself to swallow, he heard the old man at the head of the slow caravan inching up the mountains:

"Tallow a tail, measure an ox,
carry me down to the old man's box,
simple and fair, those maiden's all bare,
up to the gates of glass, we fare,
up to the gates of glass, we share
a moment or two, three wishes and a care..."

The wind howled around them, and nearly toppled the young Benshira off his okomo. He admitted to himself he was poor for his race and shamed beyond. He hid his golden eyes beneath the hood of his cloak, and gripped onto the okomo, gently, trying not to startle the animal. The man who introduced himself as Hachia continued the ditty, but Fabell could barely hear the sound of the hooves hitting the path the wind roared so loudly around them. He kept his head down, watching as the leaves of the fadeong whirled about them, feeling the cold bruising of the autumnal gales, and staring at the well-traveled path, where sparkling stones seemed to be gathering in crowds with the mortals and denizens of a decrepit and the earthskin of a dying world.

These thoughts didn't entertain him. They plagued him, and for a few moments as the beast clattered up the path, swerving dangerous around bends, Fabell's only thought delved into the matters of gods, goddesses, and the cruel twist of fate that led a young Benshira boy out of the desert, into a city of gods at the edge of the world. He gripped the flute his mother passed to him before he boarded the ship at Yahebah, and now his thoughts were only of her and her hope that he would return a changed man, someone ready to inherit her teaching and her dreams.

"The gate approaches!" The old man called out to him, laughing a bit and singing his song.

Fabell looked up his from hood, his sunlike golden eyes falling upon a gate of shimmering skyglass. And before him, for what seemed to be an eternity, was the city itself, expanding into the mists, disappearing like a ghost, wending through a myriad paths of colors and paints - and he could barely focus, before a voice startled him. He followed the sound to a guard standing by the gates.

"Hail! What brings you to Lhavit?" The guard said this matter-of-factly, as if he was tired of asking it day-after-day, and moreover tired of asking it after the Benshira boy had clearly waited until Hachia Kost had already come down the mountain in the morning and needed to take him up in the afternoon, as Fabell had been so disoriented in Port Tranquil that he couldn't find directions to Hachia's abode to book passage up the mountain. The guard looked sternly at Fabell, looking him up and down, but not moving from his post, despite the harsh winds that seemed at any moment ready to tear the warrior from the mountainside.

"Is it usually this windy?" Fabell meekly asked.

The guard returned. "This is a nice day. Now, what purpose have you come to the city? Have you any paperwork, or are you merely visiting..." at this he looked at the ragged clothes the boy wore, "or studying, or visiting? What is your purpose?"

Fabell struggled at this. Why had he come to Lhavit? Because his mother told him he had to go on a crazy quest around the world like she had done at his age? A quest no one in their right mind would ever do? That even everyone in his tribe was suspicious with him for doing, for leaving the tribe?

That even he wasn't sure was the right thing to do? No, he had decided to come to Lhavit to get as far from his mother as possible, to begin his journey at the edge of the world, and to go to the one place no one in his tribe would dream of starting a life. He was tired of his life in the whorls and spokes of the Eyktol. He was tired of the sand, he was tired of the oryx, he was tired of the wandering.

He wanted a place of his own, he wanted to be his own, and of course, what he told his mother - he desperately wanted the stories of the Other, those outside the spokes, those outside the dunewalls and shrieking winds of the desert night, a place free from the pains of Syna's rays and the fear of Leth's embrace. He wanted a city alive with light, a city where the gods and goddesses walked, a city he heard from the travelers in Wadrass as a city to behold, a city beyond.

The guard cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

Fabell had forgotten the guard asked him a question. Suddenly he regained his wits, as if losing them at a game of dice and realizing the dice were still in his pocket.

"Ah..." he smiled and looked at the guard, while withdrawing his flute. "I am a musician," he said in the Common tongue, "I seek employment."

"Yes, very well, good. Seek the Cosmo Center upon entrance to the city if you are looking for work. Now run along boy, don't dally at the gates all day. Thank you Hachia for bringing him up so late in the day. Take care on the way down." The guard then nodded at Fabell. The young man swung off the okomo, grabbing his pack and his supplies, and walked through the gates.

[Shruk]

Lumbering along the steep pathways, the roughness of the floor digging into his toughened knuckles, stopping only when he got the large gates drawing his eyes up and around the grand structure until a voice breaks the concentration. “Hail, what brings you to Lhavit?'' Turning his massive head to the short figure of the guard beside him, looking down a smile erupting on his face, letting his fangs show through his maw. “Hail to you also friend!” nodding to the guard in response, “I'm here to learn of the surroundings, and see how your plants and wildlands differ from my own in the spires. And if I am lucky I may find some people who follow great Caiyha.”.

[Emuna NightShade]

Gliding gracefully up the steep pathways, Emuna pulled her long, dark cloak more firmly over her head. She had travelled a long way in a short period of time yet wasn't feeling all to fatigued, probably the resilient panther in her.

"Hail, what brings you to Lhavit?" A strong male voice called out causing Emuna's hand to fly to the blades hidden beneath her cloak before relizing it was just a guard.

"I am just a traveler looking for a meal and a place to stay for a time," she responded calmly.

The guard looked at her, the only thing visible beneath the hood being her mouth and glowing emerald eyes.

"No bondmate?" He questioned.

Emuna growled slightly, "not that it is any of your business, but no."

The guard shrugged and opened the gates, "Later lass."

Emuna ignored him and glided silently into the city, like a shadow, vanishing into the streets as easily as most people breathed.

[Luminescence]

Let me shed some light on the situation

Emuna,

You must have a completed Character Sheet before you can begin posting. Please see the PM I sent you. Thanks!

~Luminescence

[Davarin Zuharik]

5th of Fall, 520 AV

Davarin looked up the path towards the gate with some trepidation, the hood of his cloak rustling in the wind. He shot a glance to the sailors passing him by, swarthy and rugged merchants and mercenaries returning from a rare trade mission to Kalinor, all much harder than he and likely glad to be rid of him, and sighed. His one friend on this little endeavor, a healer and passable cook, slapped him gently on the shoulder.

"C'mon, it's easy. We bring your kind here all the time, as long as you're not unpleasant to the guards they should let you in."

A lot of the locals coming up the path from the ports glanced at him warily. Though he had covered himself well, he was still dressed like a Symenestran, and his people did not enjoy a pleasant reputation in these parts. Or any parts for that matter. He sighed, and shouldered the rucksack a little.

"Fine, but when they don't you're carrying me back down."

He began hiking his way up the trail, lowering his hood and scarf as he went. It was his experience that few people liked being surprised by his racial heritage, even though he was blatantly from Kalinor. The guards marked him quite quickly from what he could see, as there was an extra one or two and they had their hands on their blades when he approached.

"Halt Symenestran. Where do you think you're going."

Davarin bit back the sarcastic remark, knowing full well it would not help his case. He kept his hands open and away from his sides, not that he was armed anyways, and tried to smile without flashing too much fang.

"I was hoping that Lhavit needed another healer."

"And why shouldn't I just kick you back down the hill so you can practice on yourself before limping back to your cave?"

His eyes lowered a little, and his shoulders sagged. He missed home, even if he didn't miss what waited for him there should he ever return.

"I spent the whole boat trip practicing on this lot sir. Besides, they don't want me around there, my unwillingness to hunt others makes me weak in their eyes. Kalinor is no more my home than it is yours."

Davarin waited, frankly expecting to promptly find his way back to the base of the trail at the end of a boot, before the guard made a resigned sound.

"Fine. You can come in, but we're going straight to the Twuele. They decide you're not welcome here, I'll drown you in the port myself. Got it skinny?"

The guard received a nod by way of answer, and Davarin passed by him. Once past the gate, he turned to the man he had travelled with, offering him a slight bow of the head. He doubted he'd see that one again. He also noted that the extra guards had fallen in on him, and he was being all but frog marched across town. Well, let the locals stare. He was here now, one way or another.