Location [Syliras Entrance] The Main Gates

[Azar]

Location: Syliras' Main Gates Time: The 45th of Winter, 509 AV Azar had been traveling for quite some time. For years maybe? She had never really had a destination in mind. She wasn’t even sure if she could remember living any other way then other than wandering. She was a nomad from birth, but then she had been with her family, not in solitude. Her days had blurred and her memory faded with time. But now she had a purpose, something to attend; The Midwinter Fire festival. Azar road on the back of her Eyktolian Desertbred, befittingly named Desert Rose. Together they clomped up to the main gates of Sylrias, Azar gently bouncing up and down. When they were around one hundred feet from the gate, Azar dismounted and led Rose to the back of the small waiting line. She spent the extra minutes tidying up her appearance and that of Rose’s; plucking leaves and twigs from their hair and straightening her [Azar’s] clothing. “What’s your business in Sylrias?” The knight stationed to the left inquired when it was her turn. “I’m here to see the Fire Festival, possibly stay a few nights,” Azar maintained a friendly tone and reached out to rub Desert Rose’s neck. Both guards regarded her and again, the one on the left asked, “Why’s your hand bandaged?” He nodded his head towards her hand on Rose’s neck. Azar’s fingers curled into a fist and she dropped her hand to her side, “I burned it.” Not exactly a lie. “How?” “Cooking . . . how else?” She was straining to keep her voice benign, now. The guard stepped forward, towards Azar and she flinched slightly, but the man went past her to pat her horse, “She’s a fine animal, an Eyktolian Desertbred, I believe. You and her been sick lately?” “We’re healthy as horses,” she tried to joke. The guard spared her a pity-laugh, “Where you two coming from, anyways? You don’t dress like the desert folk I’ve seen.” Azar self-consciously tugged at her ensemble. She wore a loose, long sleeved blouse that was matched with a brown bodice and slack leather pants. Instead of sandals she wore hide moccasins. None of the Benshiran norm. “I’m from Eyktol, originally, so is my horse; you said her breed yourself. And desert wear is practical for the desert; not here,” A bit of cheek had wormed its way into her words and she had to bite her tongue. She hated being interrogated. “Hmmph. You see any problems, mate?” The talkative guard asked his silent partner. He shook his head, “No. Not unless you consider that my break isn’t approaching fast enough or that she hasn’t paid up yet.” He rubbed his thumb to his finger in the universal symbol for money. “Oh, yes, here you go.” Azar’s hand disappeared into a sack that was slung around her horses neck, it reappeared with a gold miza. She placed the coin in the guard’s palm and he waved her through. Azar was just entering the city when the knight stopped her with a heavy hand on her shoulder, “Hey! Wait a minute!” The breath in her lungs froze, “Yes?” “You said you were staying for the Festival? That’s not till tomorrow; you’ll need some lodging for you and your horse. The best location is just up ahead; it’s fairly central.” Azar was mildly touched, “Thank you, I appreciate it . . . here,” And she did something she had never done before, she tipped the man a silver miza. *Notes: -1 Gold Miza & -1 Silver Miza

[Orin]

Day 47 of Winter, 509 AV

It had been a long trip. Such a very long trip.

A figure slowly came into view further down the road, emerging from a group of trees. Little could be discerned through the cloak and hood. A large buckler rested on the back, and judging by the soft 'clinks' as the man walked, he was wearing chain mail. In one hand the short man carried a longsword in a scabbard. In the other, he held a leash, on the end of which was what looked to be some sort of Shepard.

The young man almost buckled, the scabbard's tip started to drag in the ground. The dog looked back, giving a concerned yelp.

Shaking his head, Orin pressed on. He could see the line of people ahead. The guards where talking with a group of travelers.

Avanthal

The young warrior had traveled hundreds, if not thousands of miles over the last few months. Days had faded together, while hours had no meaning at all. Time seemed to halt as the young man walked. He had hunted, he had robbed, and he had fought. His only companion was the dog at his side, and the sword in his hand.

He was breathing heavy now. He had pushed to hard, minimal food and rest, coupled with days old injuries where putting a toll on the young Vantha. His eyes where a dull orange with utter exhaustion.

"Just a short break..."

Orin Whitewall took several cross-legged steps towards the side of the road, and collapsed to a sitting position. The dog barked, and yipped dancing around its owner until the young man grabbed at the fur, and dragged him close.

[Kadurro]

The 3rd of Winter, AV509

Kadurro approached the gates, allowing himself to gaze up at the magnificent spires on each side. No matter how many times he saw them, he couldn't help but marvel at their simplistic beauty. His eyes changed from a peaceful rich blue to a bright gold as a smile crept onto his face.

"Halt. Name."

Kadurro was jarred back to reality as he realized his feet had carried him to the gates, and a guard was halting his progress. He took a quick glance at each of the guards; the one who had confronted him wore a look as serious as a plague, and the other was still yawning, obviously just waking up. "Good morning, gentlemen! It's a beautiful day out, isn't it? I can't help but feel excited about what could hap--"

"Your name, please."

"Oh. Right, of course. I am called Kadurro."

"And your business?"

"If I might ask...what happened to the guards that were here the last time I was here? We had a great time, you know. It was a beautiful summer's night, and I had just come into possession of some fine foreign drink from the Rearing Stallion, and--"

"The guards are rotated on a regular basis," the guard interrupted with an irritated tone.

"Is that so? Oh, if only I could remember their names, then you might tell me how to find them...no matter, though, we can have just as much fun, if not more! Let me buy you a round of drinks, gentlemen. You can't not be in high spirits when you live in such a great city."

"It's...aaaaaah," the sleepy guard yawned. "It's not even past twelve bells yet!"

"If you would state your business, you could be well on your way, sir."

"Well...I have no business. I enjoy the pleasures of this magnificent city is all."

"...Hm. You may pass," the serious guard stated, stepping aside.

"Much obliged, gentlemen. Here, I insist," Kadurro said, tossing a gold-rimmed Miza to each of them. "Buy yourselves a tall glass of wine for me, my treat!" Kadurro started walking briskly through the gates. The sounds of confusion coming from the serious guard made him chuckle.

"Sir! This isn't necessary! We're not supposed to accept gifts! Sir!"

"Thanks!" That was the sleepy guard, who was surely wide awake now. Kadurro didn't mind being generous, especially when it was guards like those two who kept the city safe of most undesirables. I consider it an investment in my own safety, in fact, he thought to himself. The fact that those Mizas weren't obtained in entirely "legal" transactions was an added bonus. "Now, let's see if there's anyone who wears their purse on their sleeve," he said to himself, his eyes turning a brilliant green at the thought of rich merchants visiting taverns and pubs after a long day of exhausting work.

Ledger

-2 Gold-Rimmed Mizas

[Veral]

The 14th day of Winter, AV509 The gates of Syrilas were an impressive sight to behold. The twin towers, built out of what looked like to be granite, rose on either side of him, sober giants, over looking the protection of Syrilas. He couldn't see them in plain sight, but he guessed that such towers were manned by archers. As his horse, Swiftmane, slowly made his way through the crowd, Veral noticed the two tall guards who took watch over the gate on either side. Their helmets glinted in the sunlight, and Velar could smell their blood, even from this distance. Don't be greedy. I've eaten already. He needed to find a place to rest for a few days before starting his search. As he neared up, he let his eyes scan over the people in front of him. Peasants, by the look of things. Their ragged clothes didn't do much to soothe his judgements, nor did their attitude of shoving to get past carts and horses. What a lack of respect. So, this is what a city of humans is really like. He stopped as a guard motioned for him, and turned Swiftmane to the side and moved towards the guard. "How may I help you?" The guard gave him a quick examine, and asked with a quiet tone that was odd for a guard. Fortunately, Velar had a keen sense of hearing. "What's your business in the city?" "To take in the scenes, and enjoy the atmosphere. A hub of people are always a perfect place to find out answers you wish answered, don't you agree?" The guard smiled, and nodded before checking over his horse, and the contents in his saddlebags. Noting the quill, ink, and paper, with others books he asked with a curious glance "You a scribe then, eh?" "No, no. I am but a man with passions for books and making notes." The guard replaced the items into the saddlebags and motioned Veral to move on. "Oh, one thing. Where is there an affordable, yet decent inn?" He asked as he passed the man. "Go straight ahead, and you'll find one on the right as you near the centre." "Thank you. I bid you farewell!" He moved on, and as he laid his eyes on the inside of Syrilas, one thought occurred to him. Well, it seems I WAS mistaken about the human race...

[Bohdai]

The 16th Day of the Season of Winter, 509 AV. Bohdai dismounted several yards from the gates, choosing to lead Sidewinder, and speak to the guards face-to-face. He approached the pair, guiding Sidewinder by the bridle. He would have removed his armor for entering the city, but his saddlebags were full-enough as they were. Instead, he hung his weapons, including his deadly gauntlets, and shield from the saddlebags, outside of easy reach. He hoped the gesture was peaceful enough that he would be allowed entrance. “Good day.” He chose his words carefully. Bohdai had a noticeable accent, but many people did. As long as he avoid certain sounds he would not be betrayed by his tongue. “Could you point me out to an inexpensive tavern? I have travelled far, and would like nothing more than a mug of local brew.” The guards, knights, no less, looked Bohdai up and down. One examined Sidewinder, and checked his weapons. They made a good show of the inspection, but were under orders to allow all visitors in. Though, Bohdai did not know that. He passed inspection, and the guard gave clear directions, while his companion examined another visitor. After having the Dhani repeat the directions, he waved him through and turned to another visitor.

[Klane]

The 19th Day of Winter, 509 AV Klane looked out at the gate from behind the tree warily. It had been a long time since the Kelvic had been to civilization, and as such he wondered for the fifth time that day if it would be smart to show himself here. He shook his head. He had already washed up in a nearby river. If anyone had any suspicions he'd just run away... Again... Just as the young Kelvic was about to step foot into the open he jumped back. "What should I do..." he muttered quietly. It had just been so long since Klane had been with other people. "No," he said to himself, "I have to do it." He put on a casual look and walked towards the guard. Klane began to walk in the gates before a sturdy arm stopped him an pulled him back. "Sorry, all visitors need to pass inspection before gaining entrance," the guard spoke in a bored tone, like he just wanted to get off of his shift. "Oh, sirry sor.. I mean, sorry sir!" Klane said nervously, a bead of sweat running down his neck. The, the guard simply suspecting that the Kelvic didn't travel much nodded while finishing the inspection. "Your good. Go ahead." "Alright," Klane answered quickly, just nervous to get inside the gates. Once inside he sipped nervously from his water skin.

[Jaquise Emittere]

The 40th day of winter, 509 AV

Syliras. Jaq hadn't visited the city even once during his self imposed exile. To many bad memories, to many people who remembered. He had changed though, maybe even enough to escape notice. Hell, Jaq doubted he would recognize himself, you know aside from the skin and eye of course. Jaquise had been a scholor, a studious person whose skills lay mostly with magic and whose only excersise had been brief sparring matches with his father. Jaq however was a merc, and a rough one at that. Of course that gave the two knights at the entrance to the city an entirely different reason to look at him carefully. And once they got looking they might get to thinking they'd seen Jaq before. Perhaps in relation to a wild magic beast running loose. Perhaps one of them ahdd even lost family because of the incident. It was a risk he had to take though if Jaq planned to get over his inner demons. That and he didn't have enough supplies to go to next city over. Or ale. Though there was never enough ale.

The person in front of Jaq, who had been entering the city with a large cart full of some kinda fruit he didn't recognize pulled by took somewhat healthy looking pack animals, said some kind words to the guards and even gave them each one of the fruits before entering the city. It became Jaq's turn, and for a moment he didn't move. Then he did, moving with the swagger he had long ago learned to move with. One that said confidence bordering on arrogance and threatened a fist for those disrespectful. Not the best way to walk past knights, but a mercenary has to keep up appearances. In fact it might have been better for Jaq to simply tipp his hat in front of him to hide his face, stuff his hands in his pockets and just keepp walking. Apparently the guards were of a same opinion, and before Jaq could pass through one stepped in his way. It took most of Jaq's willpower to not reach for his sword and isntead simply stop. "Sir, it is important for the knights on guard here at the gates to make sure those netering the city are not carrying any sort of illness or plauge with them." Oh no. "And you yourself don't seem to look in that good a health."

Jaq almosted applauded the man's way of understating his appearance without understating the situation. It was smart, it was polite, and it warned jaq that if he put on a show it'd have to be one hell of a performance. Jaq looked from the knight would had spoken, standing in front of him, to the knight off to the side. The knight in front of him had his arms crossed, feigning a deference to readiness, but the one off to the side already had his hand on his sword. They were trained well, and both trusted the other enough to handle the situation. For a moment Jaq wondered if they flipped a coin or rotated who got to speak and which position was really the considered the winning one before he mentally berated himself for stalling. Looking back to the knight in front of him Jaq put on the most innocent smile he could manage. It turned out more like a lopsided grin, but it served its purpose to set the guard off balance even if only for a second. "I should apologize good knight. I'm so used to people reaction to my appearance I most readily forgot how ghastly I appear to others. Its not an illness sir, I've been like this since I was a wee child. If I had thought to do so I could have had my employer out here to verify, but it be to late now I suppose."

The knight in front of Jaq looked suspicious at his reasurance's and annoyed at the lack of an explanation. The knight to the side looked ready to draw his sword. Thankfully there was no one behind Jaq at this moment waiting to enter the city or they might have decided to start hounding him to. "Sir, if you want we could send a runner to your, ahem, 'employer'."

Jaq had been expecting the guards want for confirmation and immediatly switched from the smile he had been wearing to a looking of annoyance. "That would be no problem if it wouldn't also serve to give him an edge in negotiating my price. 'Oh, and lets not forget I had to pick you up at the gates', " Jaq did his best impression of annoying employed he once had who simply couldn't settle on a reasonable price. The affect was a high pitched, grating voice. "Look, lets leave him out of this. I'll tell you the truth, if you promise not to tell anyone else alright?"

Jaq looked from the speaker in front to the knight off to the side then back. "If its within reason sir. We can't very well keep any illegal activity hidden."

Jaq nodded acceptance to this, already readying himself to weave his story. "It was a while back, when I was first starting out in this line of worlk. I was chasing a bounty that was worth quite the pretty penny. A Dhani. Well long story short is it was in fact poisonous. The healers say I might always look like this, and that I should be happy I'm still alive." Jaq changed from looking worried and annoyed to stern. "Now so far as anyone else knows, I got that bounty and have looked like this since I was a kid. Bad for buisness if others know I screwed up so bad. So can I get your word? No on else hears about this? Not your commander, not your drinking buddies, not even that guy who just gave you fruit."

The knights, both of them, looked disgusted about the idea of keeping such a blatant lie hidden. But it was not illegal, and their word was their honour. "Unlike you, we're trustworthy men. Get in, get your job and get out." The knight stepped to the side and Jaq walked passed.

If the guards had not lived in such a world of right and wrong they would haev realized how well Jaq had just played them. They couldn't help but not see the truth. Jaq had used what he knew, while they ahd used what they felt. They felt smarter for having caught on to Jaq's first lie. They felt more confident for having backed him into a corner. They felt disgusted, adn thus distracted, that someone would lie to those he was hiring out to. It helped that mercenaries and bounty hunters were probably not on the good side of their little world. But if they had learned Jaq was a magi, and one whose got a pension for mistakes and a family history of a similar read, they might have barred him from the city. Or worse. All in the name of protecting their charges. This was the best solution, or at least the best solution Jaq could come up with. Which might mean it was pretty low on the scale. He was in the city though, and that was good. Or at least a step forward.

[Gortimir Strongfield]

45th day of Winter, Year 510 AV
The Main Gates of Syliras...


Riding towards the city did not inspire the Isur. It seemed as if with every step Stellos took, Gortimir became more suspicious of the town and those within the walls. No matter- he would proceed because this is where he felt Izurdin wanted or even needed him to be right now. His life was taking on an unforeseen path and that thought encouraged him to press forward with his horse, the only trusted friend at the current moment, beneath him.

As he neared the gates, the architecture deflated his spirits. Such common design from such a common city, he thought as the Knights finally came within sight. Though Gortimir's mind tried to figure out why in His name Izurdin would want him here, the Isur did not doubt his lord. He knew that the path chosen for him would reveal itself in some capacity during his stay in Syliras and that he would be able to overcome anything that stood in that path.

Eying him almost as suspiciously as the Isur regarded the Knights, they routinely stopped him as they had every other person who came their way. Checking him and his mount over, again very dutifully as they were so programmed to do, they asked about his business within the city. Though Gortimir expected the question, he paused ever so briefly. "Though only concerning you minimally, my business here involves starting a new career. What better place to do that than in such a richly innovative town as Syliras?"

His answer, though much longer than he had intended it to be, was overloaded with sarcasm. Gortimir did not worry about these Knights, though, and when they waived him on to pass, the thought of displaying a smirk almost overcame him. This was not the place, however, and as he urged Stellos through the double sets of over-sized doors and boringly typical courtyard, the Isur collected his thoughts and proceeded to follow whatever trail Izurdin had blazed for him.

[Trekvis]

1st Day of Winter, 509 AV

Trekvis, walks down the road as he looks up at the Main Gates [Syrilas Location]. He waves at a guard and goes through the Main Gates looking up and down and every other direction amazed at the city's beauty.

[Trekvis]

t1st Day of Winter 509 AV

OOC: Couldn't edit my post in school so I'm starting a new post.

As he already explore quarter if the city which included the Bazaar, and Stormhold Castle. He was looking at some guy in one of the allies mugging a man. "Hey you stop" Trekvis said, pulling out his broadsword and pointing it at the man's chin getting ready to kill the man. "Well I hope you meet your fate my friend". Trekvis trips the man, the man hits the ground hard the man pulls a dagger out of his pocket. He tries to stab Trekvis, Trekvis dodges grabs the man's arm and twists it over to his back picks up his foot and slams the man face foward to the ground making the dagger fly to the middle of the street. A guard walks by and looks and picks up the dagger and looks into the alley. He makes a hand sign to call more guards the guards grab the man slamming him to the wall and tieing some rope around his hands and feet picking him up and putting him atop of a horse. "Thank You, citizen we were trying to capture that mugger for quite a long time".