Flashback [Arkale] Into the city of Syliras

[Valo]

22 years of age 66th Winter 511AV Late morning Main gates If there was one city in the whole of Mizahar that one should visit upon their numerous travels, it was Syliras. The glorious city of the Knights. For some reason, the young artist expected the city gates to be a little larger. He didn't quite know why his expectation was such, but it lingered in his mind none the less. Perhaps taking into account the size of the whole city, the gates were somewhat a disillusion. But they were unimportant. It's that which lay beyond them that he wished to lay his keen eyes upon. The great city of the Knights, the capital of Sylira region. Not in his wildest dreams, as a child, had he ever imagined stepping past these gates. Of course much has changed since those days. Somehow as he walked towards it, face radiant with excitement of the new dawn upon him, the ironwood doors seemed to grow. Suddenly everything became just a little more imposing. Two guards stopped the young man in his tracks and judging by their attire they were both perhaps Knights. "State your purpose" demanded one of them. A clear and concise order though, not at all threatening. Merely an act of ritualistic repetition, a simple way of keeping illness and bad produce out of the capital. "Temporary residence sir." replied Valo with a pleasant yet serious tone to his voice; a pleasant yet serious expression on his face. Without very much of a hassle, the guards let him pass, the whole ordeal being very formal yet somehow pleasant in it's entirety. For the artist, despite having rebelled against it in his younger years, very much appreciated law and order. It seemed a mark of a great city, a way of ensuring the safety of the community. A necessity which allowed every citizen to know their place. Yes he very much liked this formality. Hopefully his stay, however short, would prove delightful indeed. Wasting little time, the bag of belongings at hand, he proceeded beneath a metal portcullis and though yet another set of ironoak doors until finally finding him self within the walls of the city. The very first thing in Valo's mind, though perhaps not a necessity, was how many other Inarta were likely to live in Syliras? Would the people be used to the sight of a man with such ridiculously red hair? Or would they, much like the Drykas in Endrykas, have a habit of staring at him wherever he proceeded as if he was some mystical kind of novelty. That seemed to be a pattern wherever he went. Elegantly he strolled a little distance from the gate, his eyes taking in the surroundings, for enclosed by a great wall that now ran both to his left and right. And before him sprawled the capital. The city of the Sylirian Knights. And he was so small and it was all so great, so much bigger than the gate and so very imposing. But upon having strolled the distance that he did, a realisation stuck him like a blow to the face. a guide would be very welcome right now, for her was truly and desperately lost. Truly and desperately without a clue where he'd go and what he was to do with him self.

[Arkale]

The Young Mage Knight walked through the streets with his hand on his hilt, and his plate armor shining proudly. His single sword pin sat boldy upon his chest, identifying him as one of the proud Syliran Knights. Through the eye slits of his helm, he regarded the denizens of the great city. It was always near the gates he made sure to pay extra attention, since it seemed that this area had the highest chance for a vagabond to be hanging around. Arkale could not explain the feeling, maybe it was because this is where the comings and goings of so many people happened per day, that it seemed like the obvious choice. As much as he relished life outside the walls of the Zeltivan University, there were times where he wished he was back in the school, the safety of the walls around him, and his books providing him silent friends to confide in; however, it was not what he wanted. That was the life his parents wanted for him. It was a life he resented, as safe as it was. Absently he moved his hand from his hilt to his belt, where a vial of soil hung. It was his grandfather that taught him life is not about how many Mizas your could save up. Life was not something you could study and learn about from a book, it was something you had to experience and learn from first hand. That is what Arkale was doing. He took a deep breath and moved on through the crowd. It was the red hair that caught his attention. Inarta was the first thing that came to mind, but why would it not? The red hair was a give away, though there was something strange about this man. He did not seem like an Inarta, but Arkale might have been imaganing things. Excited to have an excuse to speak another language, Arkale approached the man. "Hail, traveller. Welcome to Syliras," through the greeting was spoken in Nari.

[Valo]

Little time did he have to observe the complex fabric of the city, someone at once approached him. A man dressed in exquisite shining armour. "Hail, traveller. Welcome to Syliras," he spoke and looking upon his with are, Valo almost did not recognise that the greeting was spoken in his native language. his youthful, sparking green eyes widened and his lip dropped a little, an expression of pure surprise for he had never felt quite so small, faced by a Sylirian Knight in all his elegance. Who was this man, that he spoke his language so well, thought Valo and he composed him self with all his might. And it wasn't quite as easy. A part of him self desperately wanted to pinch at his skin, wondering whether this was all a dream. Or perhaps beneath that helmet of his, the Knight was also of Wind Reach? Could it be that, though far from home, he was not yet far enough? "Thank you sir." he spoke with utmost reverence in his voice and the subtle nod of the head in recognition of the man's status. His every word articulated and accented so clearly in Nari, that one might think he'd been some kind of story teller. First impressions were always important and though the young artist no doubt wanted to make a good impression on the man, he by far wanted to make a good impression on the city as a whole. Even if he was only to stay for thirty days at most, an impression would linger far after he's gone. Facing the Knight fully now, his back straight in perfect, almost feminine posture, the Inarta smiled softly and added. "I have barely stepped though the gate and you already greet me so wonderfully. An honour to make your acquaintance sir, for you undoubtedly are a credit to your city."

[Arkale]

The compliment made the Mage Knight blush, and he became rather thankful he decided to wear the helm this day. So the man was of Inarta blood. There was a silent sigh of relief from the Knight, for the last thing he wanted was to offend someone by offering the wrong greeting. Once the fire-haired had called Arkale a "credit to [his] city" the Knight smiled. It was the job of a Knight to be the face, mind, and striking arm of the city. To make a good impression was important, at least in the Mage Knight's mind. If people viewed the Syliran Knights as anything but fonts of justice and purity, then the view of the city would be reduced to such as well. The thought repulse Arkale. The very idea that anyone could view Syliras as a slum of corruption and questionable citizens was a nightmare he would rather never have. "Allow me a proper introduction," Arkale bowed to the man, "Ser Arkale Benaeford, Mage Knight of White Company, Third Regiment, Gold Quadrant. At the service of you and all of Syliras." The introduction was well rehearsed, and smooth, though it did sound a tad bit overdone. "Should ever you find yourself in need of something in this fair city, do not hesitate to ask. Arkale mostly spoke about himself there. He was not sure how other Knights would act with a random stranger approaching and asking for assisstance, but Arkale would do what he could to help.

[Valo]

He kept up his radiant smile as the Knight spoke, a fine introduction if not a little rehearsed. Still, he very much appreciated the kind gesture. It seemed quite incredible really, how upon his many travels he met so many kind people. Arkale. The name had such a pleasant ring to it. A strong masculinity within it's substance and quite befitting a Knight. Though perhaps it was very much on behalf of Valo's romantic imagination. The imagination of an idealist and also a fool. The artist extended his hand in a greeting and spoke. "A pleasure to meet you sir Arkale. My name is Valo," a subtle pause, very subtle but noticeable to a keen listener. The Inarta had no last names, nor did he have a fancy title like the Knight did. And perhaps he knew also very little about all these divisions and regiments, very little about military all together. Upon his stay in the city, he should definitely suss out a library and fill the gaps in his knowledge which not became shamefully apparent. "... of wind reach sir." "Actually there may be something you could help me with sir Arkale, if you have the time of course." he added hastily, prolonging this brief meeting just a little longer. "You see I'm ashamed to admit I know little of Syliras. Where could I find an inn perhaps, or a cheep temporary lodging. I don't intend to stay for long, yet I have far to little money to spend it frivolously."

[Arkale]

The Knight thought for a good minute, most of the lodging were the apartments on the third tier of Stormhold Keep, there were a few Inns, but their prices could be a little high for a regular traveler, especially one that was tight on funds. Arkale considered his options and finally decided on the best choice. "There is Traveler's Row, not terribly expensive lodging, though by no means the most comfortable..." In a comical and absent gesture, Arkale scratched his helmet while he thought. "Though, depending on the extent of your funds, I would suggest staying with a friend of family member in the city for now." Arkale was feeling slightly bad for the man. He did not look like one of the sellswords that so often boast the title 'Adventuerer', and nor did he look like anyone from a family of wealth. There was also the fact that there was no one to meet him at the gate, so family or expecting friends was out of the question...Arkale was slowly coming to the realization that this man was about to be swallowed whole by Syliras. Sure it was the greatest city in the world, but it was by no means the friendliest or easiest to live in. He sighed. "Why don't we go for a walk?" Arkale offered, his mind still turning out ideas.

[Valo]

Truth it was that Valo knew no one in the capital. Whereas he managed to come this far simply on friendly connections and kind hearts, Syliras bore no such love for him. Once again completely alone he was, without a kind soul but the Knight to guide him. But the charity of good conversation that Arkale provided was quite the charity indeed and Valo was nothing but grateful, for there isn't a greater gift a man can offer than the pleasure of good conversation. A tavern would suit him just fine, though perhaps he'd have to dig a little into his university funding, but he'd work it off later somehow. And he was about to thank the kind Knight for his help and he was about to big him fair well, when ever so kindly still he offered. "Why don't we go for a walk?" Valo couldn't help but be a little humbled by the request. He had quite a mentality when it came to those in authority, for he didn't see them as ordinary people, but those higher than him and to be obeyed at all times, and those who had no interest in a simple artist like himself. He'd have thought that much like the Endals at home, Arkale would have better things to do than pay attention to a lone traveller, but perhaps it was not so. A priceless peak into the mind of a man in authority and priceless experience and indeed, perhaps a priceless commodity of good conversation which he cherished so dearly. Fallowing closely by Valo spoke in his most polite and elegant of tones, the never fading smile in his face of alabaster and a spark in those dark green eyes of his. "I do hope I'm not keeping you from more important matters sir. And as for family, I have none in Syliras but I shall take my chances at an inn. If, of course that is, I manage to find my way there or at least a map of some sort." he spoke with a little laughter. Valo had a habit of speaking too much sometimes and one that he was not quite aware of yet. "I really am not planning to stay for long. In a few days I'll be leaving for Zeltiva sir." he had also had a habit of talking about himself too much. One which he'd grow out of eventually, for despite his age and the extensive travels around Mizahar, he was indeed fundamentally still a child. The weight of the bag on his shoulder began making itself a little more apparent than perhaps he’d like it to be and slipped off his shoulder just a little, before he managed to pull it back into place. Though despite this, he still managed to maintain an elegant fluidity to his moves. A quality at the very core of his persona, the very importance of mannerism and posture. His head was filled with so many questions, though picking just one was almost impossible. An inability to summon forth a coherent question, without the rest of them spilling out all at once until the Knight drowned within them. And besides, they had just only met and such barrage would be utmost rude on Valo’s behalf. He would not allow a potential friendship to start of poorly because of his inquisitive nature.

[Arkale]

Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, Arkale turned and began to walk the street of the city. He had never been a tour guide before, but he figured a good knight should be able to show a citizen or traveller their way around the great city. "So tell me, where do you come from? I am always interested in the goings on outside of the Syliras." Arkale was trying to be polite, but he was insanly curious about this man. There was something about him that seemed familiar, but he didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the way the man carried himself reminded him of someone, or maybe it was the way he spoke. Whatever it was it made the Mage Knight curious and he wanted to get to know this traveller.

[Valo]

The young artist couldn't help but wander if they were going in any precise direction, or just randomly strolling though the streets with no apparent direction in mind. For, as far as he wanted to know more of Syliras and all the city had to offer, he was now more interested in Arkale and the possible friendship that looked over the horizon. Ah, how marvellous a friendship it would be. And at a time where one could trust no one but him self, friendship is a priceless commodity - perhaps he was young but Valo knew of this truth of life well. Understanding of the value of such things did not come with age, but seemed an innate condition. "I suppose the true answer to that question would be Endrykas sir. I stayed there for a while." answered Valo. "Though in all truth I come from Wind Reach. Yet it has been years since I laid eyes on my home land. How about you sir? Have you always lived in Syliras?"

[Arkale]

"When I was a boy I lived in Zeltiva. I was actually a student of the university for a while, but I dropped out and joined the Knights..." There was a weight in his voice that foretold an unhappy past. It was obvious Arkale was holding back, but it was not the job of this traveller to shoulder the burden of Arkale's past. However, Arkale put on a smile, rather useless since he wore a helmet, but it was a habit-well...maybe more of a deflection technique. Either way, it allowed Arkale to avoid conversations of his past or other such painful things. "I have a desire to travel the world, but something in Syliras calls to me...maybe its my desire to be a Knight? Who knows, either way I know I can't leave until I prove it to myself that I can...Call me crazy, but its how I feel." He shrugged, causing his plate armor to klink together. Arkale turned his attention to the street for a moment, after all he was still on patrol and had to keep his wits about him. Not only that, he was showing this traveller around the city, and he should at least be trying to identify the places, roads, and what not, but he was not quiet sure where to begin. He started by explaining that most of Syliras was actually within Stormhold Keep, and how the levels were stacks and their importance. He tried to point out busniesses and streets, but kept going off on tagents about the Knights and the founding of the city. A few times he had to actually force himself to stop talking as to not embarass himself by rambling.