1st of Winter, 518 A.V.
The Song's Rest 8th Bell----------------
Kynier wouldn’t have thought it when he had looked out the window of his room during the early bells of the day, but it was now the first day of Winter. The temperature was still fairly pleasant, the rains were diminishing and allowing Syna’s light to shine down upon the city. All of it didn’t feel natural. Where was the cold and the snow? For several years now, there had not been a true winter, it was bothering the mage despite how there was nothing he could do about it. As pleasant as it was, as much as it looked like an ideal Spring morning, Kynier felt that there was something very wrong going on.
That could have simply been his circumstances though. Sleeping in a bed at the Song’s Rest was without a doubt the most uncomfortable bed he had ever been in. That made for some terrible irony. Kynier got up that morning with numerous groans and stretching his back out in several ways before he felt better. Needless to say, he didn’t like the living arrangements. Nothing was his own, and there wasn’t any true privacy to be had. Residents in other rooms were sometimes loud and obnoxious. Whether people were fighting or copulating, the walls did little to distort the noise. Kynier was more than tempted to raise a shield and block it out, but felt it was more prudent to not lay a shield down at a public facility simply for his personal preferences.
When he finished dawning his clothing and weapons, he left his room and locked it behind him. All that was inside were his large chest and a few sacks. Most of his possessions were still inside the magical pack that hung from a shoulder. While it felt safer having them with him rather than in the inn’s room, it also increased his sense of paranoia. Trying to walk as though he wasn’t carrying all his valuable possessions at once, Kynier descended the stairs to the tavern. Already there was music playing and the smell of food wafted the air. Kynier moved to a table in the corner of the structure, one that gave him a clear view of the entrance as well as most of the lower floor.
As he sat down, he draped his cloak over the backrest of the chair to fall freely to the floor. He didn’t keep the hood up since he was inside. The dark green vest rested over a dark blue cotton shirt that was tucked into his dark pants. When a server came over, he set his order for breakfast and an ale. Kynier didn’t much care for spirits but found them preferable to the tainted water they tried to serve. As he waited for the food to arrive, the music stopped and the man that had been leading it began to speak loudly to the crowd that was present.
“Looks like this is going to be an interesting winter! What with the Daggerhand and Sun's Birth posed and ready to strike. Oddly enough though, they are not posed to strike against each other, but both are ready for battle from the past autumn of preparation."
"The Sun's have nearly succeeded in reclaiming The Western Heights when various hooded members of the public began to strike out at Dragoons in broad daylight. Its unknown if they are apart of the Night Eyes, but we all know it goes without saying that its them. The Heights are now under contention and I can only guess this was the wet dream those Vigilantes were looking for."
Kynier leaned back in his chair as the music started up once again. A finger rested thoughtfully under his lip as the fingers of the other hand strummed against the table’s surface. It was frustrating how he couldn’t see nor guess what was going to happen. There was this “Night of Masks” that the Daggerhand were planning. The Sun’s Birth were fairly simple, or at least appeared to be fairly simple, and wanted control over large territories. But the Night Eyes? They were a true mystery. One that was now very dangerous for him to approach. As Kynier waited for his food to come he questioned whether it was a mystery worth pursuing.
That could have simply been his circumstances though. Sleeping in a bed at the Song’s Rest was without a doubt the most uncomfortable bed he had ever been in. That made for some terrible irony. Kynier got up that morning with numerous groans and stretching his back out in several ways before he felt better. Needless to say, he didn’t like the living arrangements. Nothing was his own, and there wasn’t any true privacy to be had. Residents in other rooms were sometimes loud and obnoxious. Whether people were fighting or copulating, the walls did little to distort the noise. Kynier was more than tempted to raise a shield and block it out, but felt it was more prudent to not lay a shield down at a public facility simply for his personal preferences.
When he finished dawning his clothing and weapons, he left his room and locked it behind him. All that was inside were his large chest and a few sacks. Most of his possessions were still inside the magical pack that hung from a shoulder. While it felt safer having them with him rather than in the inn’s room, it also increased his sense of paranoia. Trying to walk as though he wasn’t carrying all his valuable possessions at once, Kynier descended the stairs to the tavern. Already there was music playing and the smell of food wafted the air. Kynier moved to a table in the corner of the structure, one that gave him a clear view of the entrance as well as most of the lower floor.
As he sat down, he draped his cloak over the backrest of the chair to fall freely to the floor. He didn’t keep the hood up since he was inside. The dark green vest rested over a dark blue cotton shirt that was tucked into his dark pants. When a server came over, he set his order for breakfast and an ale. Kynier didn’t much care for spirits but found them preferable to the tainted water they tried to serve. As he waited for the food to arrive, the music stopped and the man that had been leading it began to speak loudly to the crowd that was present.
“Looks like this is going to be an interesting winter! What with the Daggerhand and Sun's Birth posed and ready to strike. Oddly enough though, they are not posed to strike against each other, but both are ready for battle from the past autumn of preparation."
"The Sun's have nearly succeeded in reclaiming The Western Heights when various hooded members of the public began to strike out at Dragoons in broad daylight. Its unknown if they are apart of the Night Eyes, but we all know it goes without saying that its them. The Heights are now under contention and I can only guess this was the wet dream those Vigilantes were looking for."
Kynier leaned back in his chair as the music started up once again. A finger rested thoughtfully under his lip as the fingers of the other hand strummed against the table’s surface. It was frustrating how he couldn’t see nor guess what was going to happen. There was this “Night of Masks” that the Daggerhand were planning. The Sun’s Birth were fairly simple, or at least appeared to be fairly simple, and wanted control over large territories. But the Night Eyes? They were a true mystery. One that was now very dangerous for him to approach. As Kynier waited for his food to come he questioned whether it was a mystery worth pursuing.
Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!
