Location The Icewall Gates

[Circe Ananasi]

It was beginning to become apparent that the the young albino Kelvic was testing the patience of the guards as she stood in front of the Icewall gates. Her name was Circe, and she had been frozen there for several minutes, so to speak anyway, seemingly trapped in both awe and nostalgia as the wind whistled past her.

Circe could have sworn she heard the wind sing to her, lifting her hair lightly off her shoulders as it danced past her. She flitted through the snow, smiling at the feeling of cold on the tough pads of her feet.

She inhaled sharply, attracting a strange look from one of the guards, of course, that was probably because she was also grinning like an idiot. Her father had always told her that her smile had made her seem untrustworthy, but then again, her father had hardly ever smiled, twisting his head to glare at her through owlish eyes as she tried to sneak up behind him and pounce playfully on his back.

The memory of him seemed as if it had suddenly assaulted her, and she fought the sudden shards of glass that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

It had been his dying wish for her to go to Aventhal, to be safe, perhaps even be happy.

Suddenly, one of the polar bear mounts let out a gruff noise, halfway between a grunt and a snarl. She yipped, and fled through the large ice gate without another word to anyone.

[Kota Cirian]

What day was it? he had long stopped caring. Only he season and time mattered to him. while he was lost in thinking, a cold wind whipped past Kota, chilling him through the worn leather armor he wore. He stared up at the ice wall, and continued thinking. While he had been here recently, he still felt sad about entering the city. Maybe it was the sorrow he felt deep down for never saying goodbye? or was it the loneliness that gripped him? Loneliness that was strength by his natural Kelvic instincts. or was guilt? or was it all three, guilt, sadness, and loneliness all mixed together? He shook his head and looked over the vast expanse of snow and ice that covered the frigid land outside of the city. It had been to long since Nera and him fled the city. He could still remember it clearly.

-Brief flashback-
He was riding on willow, his Frostmarch horse, Nera was riding beisde him, the wind was especially cold that night. The snow seemed to be much colder than usual as well. He looked back at the city as willow galloped forward as fast as she could in the heavy snow. He had heard shouts coming from his house as he was fleeing down the streets a few moments ago.

Kota shook his head, banishing the memory back to the recesses of his mind. he didn't want the memory there. it was a memory of a different time, a memory when he wasn't gripped by sadness and guilt. He was sure the shouts he heard was from his father. He didn't want to think about him or his mother. They were gone. Simple as that. Everyone he knew was gone. He had no family he knew of, and Nera had died because of those bandits....because of him. If he had been stronger...

Reality suddenly came back to him as another gust of frigid wind chilled his bones. He shivered as the gusts continued to sweep over the snowy landscape. Why did he come here again? oh right, he needed a new bow. His last one had broken. It had frozen solid, and when he had tried to using it, it practically shattered. He had a hundred gold Miza's, he had it collected over the time he had been back here. That should be enough to buy a decent one at least. He gave one last look at the frigid plains and walked into the city.

[Rue]

8th day of Summer, 511 A.V. As the gates before her shimmered, Rue stopped and admired them in awe. The beauty of the faultless stone was enticing in the waning summer sun glow. Vaguely aware of the furry Pip running around her legs she stepped forward and tripped over the dog earning a face full of cold snow. She jumped at the icy contact and pushed herself to her feet wishing the Ice guard had not seen but knowing that they did. It was obvious by the smiles playing lightly on their faces that the Ice guard must have gotten a bit of entertainment as the blushing girl brushed the snow off her clothing and the dog. She approached the gate and held her hand out for a Kelvic to sniff while the two dogs began barking and jumping excitedly at the Polar bears. Rue ran through the gates calling her dogs away from the annoyed Kelvics.

[Ciroc]

Ciroc slowly approached the gates. The place was so cold it felt like he was going to freeze instantly. At least, to him thats what it felt like. His camouflage armor did little to keep the cold out.
"Why....in the name of...." He said as he continued trudging through the cold snow, his feet becoming number by the second.
"Did i decide to go.....Avanthal" He said in bewteen gritted teeth, they would annoyingly chatter otherwise. "Whoever built a city out here in this place, is an utter moron." He said again through gritted teeth. His feet were fully numb now, and he couldn't feel anything, not the ground he was walking on, or his armor.
"I dont care if that person is the god of ice and snow or whatever she is. She is a moron." he said as he approached the polar bear kelvics and guards. "If this keeps up, im going to f-freeze into a ice statue and be p-put on display in the p-p-palace."The gaurds looked at him curiously, they had obviously heard him talking to himself. Well, it is one of the signs of insanity, or so they say. But they probably though the 'will freeze and be put on display in the palace part' was funny in some manner, but he was being completely serious.
The huge polar bear sniffed him and they made sure he was safe.
"C-c-c-can Y-y-you tell me w-where the N-nearest Inn is?" He had not noticed his stuttering before. Curse this cold! anyone living here must be a moron. He thought as the guard gave him directions to the "Red Diamond Tavern." he hastily thanked the guard and turned to enter the city. In his haste he forgot to watch where he was walking, and he tripped over his own numb feet. He landed face first in the snow, instantly making the rest of his body numb. He let out an angry growl. One of the rare occasions, he lost his look of calm. He let out a muffled curse face down in the snow and stood back up as fast as he could. He brushed the snow off of him the best as he could. He clenched his fist around his Angelknife, he found it calming, like clutching prey in his talons when he was flying. He was sure the guards had saw, but if they had they said nothing. He continued into the city, making his way towards the so called Red Diamond Tavern, where he could hopefully buy some drinks and warm himself by the fire before more incidents like this happened.

[Clinton Fontiane]

By the time Clint and his guide had reached the gates of Avanthal he had already begun working out different ways for him to get around on future travels. A carriage and a couple of horses would be able to keep him off his feet and out of harms way but he would need a driver. A couple of companions would be nice too, and there was plenty of room but that would be for a later time. Once at the gates his guide bid him farewell and good luck before leaving him on his own. Using his cane he maneuvered through the gates slowly, earning odd looks from the Icewatch.

[Ashen]

1 Summer, 510 AV

After a long trek through the snow, a frozen solid and numb Ashen finally reached the shimmering Icewall Gates. She took a moment to gawk at the beauty of the sight before the brutal cold forced her to keep moving forward. She nodded at the guards and their Kelvics before strolling through the gates, taking in her surroundings. Despite the frigid cold, Ashen had a feeling she was going to like Avanthal.

[Silvy]

The silver wolf ran so swiftly, her coat blurred into the camouflage of white snow around her. She breathed in deep gulps of wonderfully cool air. 'I could run for hours in this perfect weather!' was her passing thought. A humanoid scent rammed her senses and she stopped in her careful digitigrade tracks. Silvy held her breath and took in the scents with an uplifted face and wet her nose to catch the smell more strongly. Her silver eyes scanned the area and saw a very large biped nearby. 'It doesn't -smell- like something I'd bond with, but I must be brave.' Silvy thought, approaching the gate with quiet paws. The lovely young wolf bitch wagged her tail stiffly and cautiously, keeping it low and neutral. She put her ears down so she wouldn't appear threatening. She held her head level with her shoulders and made a brief second of eye contact with the enormously large gaurd. Silvy felt confident she'd handled it well. Not too much eye contact to threaten, but friendly and neutral. She quietly whimpered her loneliness to the guard and held her head to the side, keeping very submissive to not invoke wrath. Silvy waited... When no one stopped or threatened her, she raced past the guards into the arms of her new home.

[Graffius]

Flashback: Winter, 497 A.V. Nightfall

Smoky wisps of frozen breath and the padded muffle of footfall signed of Navad’s arrival to Avanthal. A figure of questionable proportions, he lazily paced through the snowy path, his dark strands of thick hair decorated with diamond dust. Already he could see the torchlight of civilization; Avanthal’s fabled Icewall Gates. It had been a long journey of tirelessness backpacking. Simply arriving at his destination after such a voyage kindled a warm fire within him, even if the area around him was perpetually frozen with permafrost. Trudging with heavy footsteps weighted with dense powder and a raised hand to shield gusts of icy gusts, he looked upwards and admired the lustrous structure momentarily. Truly it was art formed of architectural ingenuity. With a glance and a nod of sincere friendliness towards the northern guards, he gripped the fabric of his cloak and coiled it tightly around him – entering through the gates and beholding the chilling beauty of Avanthal’s frozen heart.

[Mortemor Thane II]

"By the blighted! it's freezing!!" A young flame-haired woman shivered harshly beneath a finely made violet cloak; its folds hung heavily about her slender frame. The caravan she had been traveling with since Zeltiva kept a steady pace, allowing the small woman to keep up even though she had to pull her ankles through piles of powdery white snow. By this time Mortemor was happy she had followed the advice of her mother. The elder woman's words still echoed in her head," It will be a long, arduous journey, my dove... but you have the spirit and resolve for such a venture... Which is why I'll let you go without a grudging heart... but please take an extra pair of socks and underwear at least!" At first the twenty-year-old had scoffed at her mother's concern but now was thankful that the advised "extra-pair of socks" were keeping her feet from getting wet. Her boots were already heavy with chunks of dirt, and moisture from the snow; it made her feel as though she were trudging through the snow with weights on her legs! Mortemor had begun to rethink her choice to hoof it all the way to Wind Reach, instead of taking the miniature mountain pony her father had offered her. Traveling with the caravan offered little comforts; a cart to sit on occasionally when no one else occupied it, and of course, protection while on the road. Besides that most of its members kept to themselves. Mortemor was ready for a change in companionship and began wondering if she’d be able to locate a traveling companion when she reached Avanthal. “Avanthal…” Mortemor sighed beneath her breath, a wisp of hot mist wafting from her rosy, chapped and frozen lips. “…The city of ice and snow…” She finished in her thoughts. Just as the lanky girl had begun to remember a few of the tales she had read about Avanthal, the spires of the wintery castle of the Goddess Morwen peeked over the pure white and shimmering horizon; effectively jolting Mortemor from her thoughts, and signaling to the caravan that their arrival was imminent. Soon the towering walls, dubbed the ‘Icewall Gates’, appeared in the distance. Mortemor had always imagined why these gates were named as such, but now seeing them in person, the name became quite obvious. Each brick of the sparkling wall was translucent and shined like rock hard ice. Mortemor had rarely ever seen ice, and to see it used in such a mass quantity and in such a practical, yet spectacular way was nothing less than astounding to the young Thane. She gaped at the entrance, thoroughly taken-in by the beauty and intricacy created by craftsmen who had taken such care to sculpt an entire wall out of ice! Sparked by curiosity and excitement, Mortemor sprang fourth, all but forgetting about her aching legs. With renewed spirit, Mortemor’s quickened pace carried her pass the gates and into the city, but not without politely greeting both the guardsmen and their companions on her way.

[Varian Snowsong]

Summer 1, 511 AV Home. He was finally coming home. It seemed more like a lifetime ago that he had left the place of his birth to look for that one story that would make him famous among his people, to collect songs that had never been heard in Morwen’s frozen realm before – and not a year. He looked at the gates that loomed in front of him as if he were seeing them for the first time – or as if he had forgotten what they looked like. The sight filled him with the strangest feeling, an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach, or where his stomach had once been. Was there still a place for him here? Was Avanthal still his home? Did dead people have homes? For a moment he was tempted to turn around, to run all the way back to Sahova where he would at least be surrounded by people that shared his condition. For a moment it seemed like a bad idea, possibly the worst idea he had ever had besides leaving in the first place. What if they noticed? What if the people of Avanthal realized that there was something strange about him? He had family in the city! How would he explain that he couldn’t join them at the dinner table anymore? He had thought about that since he had left the Nuit who was responsible for what had happened to him. It had seemed such a good story at first, a mysterious woman met on the road, a woman that he would return to after seeing his family one more time, magical study that would require him to rent something at the Warrens and be alone ... but now he realized that it was lacking. But still he walked on, driven by an insatiable yearning that defied all logic and common sense. The old Nuit he had met considered themselves immortal, but he felt more like a dying man who wanted to see the place where he had been born one last time before he succumbed to whatever disease he was suffering from. To him being a Nuit was just that, a disease that required people to move from body to body – or stop existing. Even though the Nuit didn’t really feel the cold anymore – what he felt now was but a pale shadow of the feelings he had had before – he had wrapped his body in warm clothes. The hood of his cloak was pulled into his face, to hide the dark bags that had already developed under his eyes – the most obvious sign that this body, the only body he had ever had, was slowly decaying. He wore gloves as well, to protect his hands. Frostbite was still a danger. Unlike before, he wouldn’t notice it until it was too late. It would only ruin his body faster. Dark eyes met the guards‘ for a moment. The young man murmurred a greeting and inclined his head, and then he hurried into the city. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation at the moment.