Location The Southern Trading Post (City Entrance)

[Seth]

"I don't care what your mother had. She obviously had you, so we are already off to a bad start." The city guard practically snarled at Sasin as he stepped up to the check-out area, apparently in a bit of a bad mood. He still went about his job like normal, although the pat-down was a bit rough. He verified that Sasin had all the weapons that he had stated, and asked a few seemingly random questions, jotting all of this information down on a book he had with him. After about a minute of all of this, he quickly sent Sasin on his way.

OOCSorry this took so long. I hope you didn't wait up. This can be self modded, but a lot of people seem to forget that. I forget to check it, myself. xD

[Feather]

4th of Spring 511 AV

The guards had been laughing at how Feather could have the audacity to request lean against the actual Southern Trade Post itself to rest for a few hours. It was a quiet night, so the guards had allowed her as long as there was no funny business. However, Feather had not anticipated that she was to have a restless sleep where she’d be tossing and turning throughout the early hours.

It was almost six o’clock in the morning; the night patrol were close to finishing their shift when Feather eyes scrunched tight and her breathing became heavy. The surrounding guards took little notice of Feather enduring her bad dream.

“Another dreamer over there!” said one of the guards mockingly whilst pointing with his thumb over his shoulder

“IT’S NOT KITTY!” She shouted ferociously. She clenched her teeth and fists and began to soft-but-jerkily shaking her head. The surrounding guards began to chuckle but stopped as Feather’s expression dropped. The teeth and fists relaxed and Feather’s expression was absolute nothingness.

“My name is Feather…” she said softly “…I am afraid to show you who I really am…"

“Did she say her name was Feather last night?” asked one of the guards to his patrol member. The second guard nodded. “Should we wake her?”

A single tear flowed down Feather’s cheek.

“…because if I show you who I really am…you might not like it… and that’s all I got.” She started to weep quietly whilst still being asleep.

“Right, we’ll have no more of this at such an unsociable hour of the morning. Let’s wake her!”

The guards moved towards Feather who was now facing away from them. One of the guards reached out and touched Feather’s hair. No response. He pushed a little harder but still very gently. No apparent response, however, Feather had opened one eye and blinked away the remaining tears that had accumulated. The guard pressed the back of her head again. This time there was a response…

Feather jumped to her feet impressively from a lying on-the-side position letting out a huge hiss and grabbed the arm of the guard. Her eyebrows raised apologetically as she realised what she had done and where she was.

“I’m so sorry”

The guard remained blank. Her blinked a couple of times and smirked. Her turned his head to the other guards and began to laugh. A few moments later all the guards were laughing and doing claw gestures at each other.

Carrying on with a professional tone one of the guards grabbed a parchment, a quill and an ink-pot and asked the default set of questions

“So…ermm…”

“Feather…Feather Serenity Demure”

“What reasons have you for wanting to go to Ravok?”

“I am just curious to find what my...” she quickly refrained herself from saying ‘master’ “…friend found fascinating about the city on the lake.”

The guard frowned a little before continuing.

“Any weapons with you?”

“Nope, none at all. Well unless you find an eating knife to be destructive.” she said giggling. She stopped giggling as she noticed the guard tightening his stare. Maybe he was noticing the slit pupils, maybe he was unsure about her…or maybe he…nahh. The guard gave Feather a grunt and a nod and allowed her on her way to The Docks.

[Logi]

60th Day of Spring, 511

Logi stared at the gates. The guards seemed lifeless, standing there, the only thing keeping them from moving was peer dedication and loyalty. They would answer any questions, and go back to their statue-like position. Logi watched the people rush by, one after another entering and leaving the city. He scoffed to himself as he thought of how many people passed through these gates, some rich, some poor, and yet he was just sitting there, staring blankly. Getting up, Logi decided it was time to get into the city, he'd done enough pointless staring today.

He walked against the flow of people, somewhat unphased by the traffic. He walked up to guards. Ready for the usual questions, Logi relaxed; This bit was always the boring one. He had been in and out of the city many times, this time he was out for nothing more but a simple walk around. He decided he would head back in before it got dark, and getting back to the city was the exact reason Logi stood here.

[Elmoch]

77th day of Spring, 511AV.

Elmoch could barely believe it. He was finally there. He would no longer have to travel, he was just too sick of doing it. After all of the trouble he had been to get to Ravok from Syliras he probably would not even think of traveling again anytime soon. Probably. Maybe if Ravok proved to be more interesting than Syliras he'd stay for a good while. His expectations were high. In reality he knew nothing about this place.

He then walked into the fortified tower and found the guards whose duty was to inspect incoming travelers. Elmoch was already familiarized with this scenario. The guards watched him as he approached, with no surprise on the faces, probably because men such as himself were not uncommon in the place.

"What is your name?" questioned one of the guards, rather directly, "and what are your intentions in Ravok?"

Elmoch smiled. "I am called Elmoch, and I simply intend to spend some time here. Perhaps find a job and settle down," he said, reluctant to even thinking about going back to the Wildlands anytime soon.

The guard grinned almost as if predicting a doomed fate for Elmoch in Ravok, while another man behind him wrote down the information. The guard waited a few moments for the man to be done with his notations before raising his voice again. "Okay, please show me your belongings."

Elmoch dropped his bag on the floor, allowing the guards to inspect it. He also pulled his sword from his belt and showed it to the guard. "That's all I have. This is merely for protection."

The guard grabbed the sword, took a quick look at it and gave it back to Elmoch. "Alright, you're good to go. Get in that ferry and you will be taken to the city," said the guard, pointing to a boat.

Elmoch picked his sword again, along with his belongings and went to the ferry. The ferryman had a blank expression and didn't say a word. He simply did his job quietly. Elmoch didn't attempt to talk with him either, he was satisfied with the silence. It didn't take long after that until he arrived in Ravok, where he simply nodded to the ferryman in gratitude.

[Iasc]

80th of Spring 511 AV

Each step was a nightmare. With every footfall a surge of pain shot up his legs, up his spine and reverberated throughout his body. He had no choice but to grit his teeth, grinding them ferociously, and plough ahead. It was either that or rot in the wilderness. When he found any form of civilization (well, if seemed more likely to him rather than when with the state he was in) he was sure that he would have no teeth left, along with no feet at that with the rate he was going at. Just as he was beginning to give up hope he saw a stone wall break the horizon, a city. His heart leapt with joy, the dejected look he wore quickly changed. He began to move faster, feeling the pain recede with each step rather than amplify, as it had been doing before. In no time at all he would be there. Safe once again. He would have a big, hot meal and curl up in a nice, comfortable bed. All he had to do was get beyond the walls and he would finally be safe. The name of the city nor the secrets, however dark, that it might hold failed to even cross his mind as he hurried along, he was far too preoccupied to think on such bleak matters.

“Name.” The word was spoken with a certain boredom. The boredom of a man who had said, not quite asked as Iasc presumed he was supposed to do, the same thing to each and every passing traveller in and out of the mysterious city.
“Iasc”, the youth answered clearly bewildered with his surroundings as if he was unable to comprehend the floating city. He had managed to half run, half stumble to the lake that surrounded the haven, being greeted by merchants selling food and drink and a wait that took the best part of a half bell.
“Purpose.”
Iasc thought for a moment. He couldn’t tell them the truth could he. He would be the laughing stock of the city before he even entered it. Best to keep it nice and simple. “Just passing through,” he answered after a few moments silence, hoping there would be no follow up questions on the subject. He never had been a good liar after all.
“Weapons.”
“What about them?”
“Let me see them.”
“Why?” Iasc seemed to have momentarily forgotten that he was talking to a guard of the city he was about to enter who could call as many friends as he wished to forcibly take Iasc’s weapons off him. Realising this he laid his bow and quiver, containing twenty arrows, in front of him. The guard recorded them and gave them back. He likewise recorded Iasc’s mandolin and the few mizas that he had brought from Zeltiva. He couldn’t help but think how much easier it was to get into Syliras and Zeltiva. There was none of this checking of names and weapons.

And with that he was waved through to the floating city of Ravok.

[Irriari]

The tower was impressive, but it did not hold Irriari's attention for long. She knew that this would be a test, much like the one in Sahova. Her shoulders shook lightly as she approached the guards who stood watch at the tower entrance. Sahova was a nightmare, loaded with all the things she had always feared, and deep down she was terrified that Ravok, the city she had heard so much about while traveling north, would be no better. Would she make it past the gates this time? She stepped forward, knowing that she was too close to the guards to walk away without arousing suspicion now.

She had watched the other visitors as they progressed through the inspection. It seemed that everyone was required to present their belongings and speak to the guards before they were allowed to move any further. Each of the six guards wore cold and confident stares and her training dictated that she meet them with the same look, and not appear weak. Common sense and self preservation told her to do otherwise. She was not like the others. The humans in front of her had moved quickly, and pressed themselves together in uncomfortable and wondrous ways when she glanced at them. Could they see that she was more fearful then they were?

When she finally got to a guard, the mans stare was cold enough to make her want to rip his intestines from his gut. He smirked and then spoke,

“You want to enter Ravok, monster?”

Irriari nodded slightly and waited for the questions to continue. Every time she could get away without speaking, she intended to. Each taunt from the guard edged her closer and closer to the blood sight, and she knew that the anger might kill be enough to kill the guard, but she would most likely die as well.

“Well, what is your business here? Can you even speak?”

The man looked at his companion and they both chuckled.

“Yes, I can speak. I wish to see the city of Ravok. I am a poisoncrafter. I want to sell my wares here, if I can, and if not I want to see this city. I have heard much about it.”

Her explanation sounded odd, she was sure. A traveling sight seeing Zith poisoncrafter? Well, they would have a story to tell tonight if they were not selling her name and description to the slavers.

“And what do you carry with you?”

Irriari put her posioncrafting kit on the ground first, once she had loosened the strap that attached the leather bag to her quiver. Her quiver came next, along with the bag of mizas that was tucked slightly inside. Finally, she placed her prized, decorated short bow in from of the guard.

“That is all I have. My poison kit, arrows, bow and mizas.”

The second guard rifled through her belongings loudly, and with little care. Irriari cringed as she heard the telltale sound of glass breaking from inside her kit. She hoped it was simply a cheap vial that could be easily replaced for a few silver mizas. The guard who had spoken to her thus far patted her down and jabbed at her fur with his fingers. When he got to her back he stared at her wings, but avoided touching them.

“And your name, poisoner?” he asked
“Irriari.”

The guards seemed satisfied with her answer and they quickly recorded information onto the sheets of parchment in front of them. They nodded to each other and the first one walked up to her and spoke.

“You would do well to behave here, Zith. I'm sure the Ebonstryfe would be all too happy to use you as target practice. If not, the slavers would take you. You can enter, but if you cause any trouble, or annoy even the poorest beggar, you will wish you had never heard of our city.”

Irriari nodded in acknowledgment of the harsh warning while she picked up her belongings. When both of the men had stepped aside she walked past them, and was beyond happy to have survived the ordeal.

[Clyde Sullins]

511 AV, Summer 2 Getting out of his boat, Clyde slowly walked along the docks, to were it seemed everyone else was going. He had finally arrived in Ravok, an interesting place to be sure. His main draw though was the Institute, were he planned to continue his studying. He had last been in Zeltiva, were he had learned a lot, but it was always good to learn things in different places, and from different people. Walking up to a large watchtower, he was approached by some guards, who asked him what his purpose was, what he had, and if he had weapons. "I am here to study at the institute of higher learning, or so i hope. I am carrying only normal items, and my only thing that could be seen as a weapon is my staff here, which i carry. Its not all that dangerous." Clyde stood there as the guards inspected his belongings, what little there was, and kept an eye just to make sure they did not take anything. After all, you could never be to careful. As they finished, he nodded and they waved him through, as the next person came along. Going by he entered the city finally, happy nothing had gone wrong. So far it seemed his trip in Ravok would be good. Hopefully he would learn a lot, and leave richer both of experience and of financially.

[Hadrian]

57th Summer, 511 A.V. This is a placeholder. Hadrian and his entourage are scheduled to arrive on the 57th.

[Tychonius Nioni]

What an ugly guy, thought Tychonius, A very beautiful emissary for all of Ravok to her visitors. "Name?" asked the guard. He had on a rather stinking uniform, which is easily understandable, Tychonius realized, because of the humidity of such an overcast environment and the metal he was wearing. His face was gross, a smattering of a poorly grown beard patched his face with thin black and his teeth were a perfect example of why dentistry simply must become a regular practice. There were only half of them still lodged in his skull (the front two missing completely, making T's difficult to pronounce), and the ones that still were there were yellow. "Tychonius Nioni" The man raised his single, black eyebrow in surprise at the name. Tychonius understood. "T-Y-C-H-O-N-I-U-S." Tycho paused as the man's pen flew across the yellow page on the rotting table in front of him. "N-I-O-N-I" Reason for coming to Ravok, Mr. Dychonius? Tychonius grimaced within himself. He had pronounced the "Ch" as one would in the word "Chat". But outside, Tychonius was beaming with good nature and brotherly love. "Why, I come as a bard, hoping to peddle my trade in the honorable streets of Ravok to Ravok's finest citizens. Would you like to hear a tune?" He withdrew from the right side of his horse his flute; he had not gotten off his horse and did not intend to; rather, he wanted to get out of this guard's view and head down to the ferry. He was late. "There is a small fee. If you-" "No, no thank you," said the horrible-looking man upon the word "fee". He began waving Tychonius forward. "You got on ahead, now." "Thank you, sir." Tychonius beamed. "Damn oaf. Waved me through without checking me. Could be bringing in anything, and he would never know. God, but he was ugly." And so the man from Zeltiva, on his horse named Anna, rode to the ferry and got on, going to Ravok.

[Jason Luntilla]

Jason walked slowly into Ravok, separated from the rest of his group, It had been a long journey, longer than any of them had anticipated. He walked to the guard silently and looked up at the man, holding his book in his hand.

The Guard looks up at Jason and says “Name, and reason for coming to Ravok.”

Jason, sensing that this man was tired and didn’t want to mess around right now, says “Jason Luntilla. I came to study Magic.” After a cursory check of his belongings seeing very little there he let’s Jason into the city.