Closed Late Night Flight of Fancy. (Faradae)

[Alexander Faircroft]

41st Winter 515AV 10:45 PM Late in the day the streets had begun to filter down and quiet. A soft pall had passed over the city as the tavern was now filled and families were now at home with their loved ones. Alex stepped through the quiet and cold streets the buffeting winds occasionally chilling the steel that coated him. Within Alex was warm though wearing his coat and leather armour for extra layers. Sure it meant more weight but wearing his personal armour beneath meant he now had a hood to pull over his head and keep the chill out of his face. Quiver and dagger at his waist his bow slung over his shoulder, his shield tied to his back and bastard sword at his hip. Several throwing daggers hidden over his person if should he need a weapon in an emergency. He’d been asked to patrol the city this night. Or rather he’d asked if he could be allowed to do it believing the cold air might calm his mind clear his head and grant him respite and sleep. The heavy foot falls of his plate fell softly against the ground, attempting his best to keep quiet and not disturb the peace and tranquillity of the desolate streets. A cool calm night perhaps I need to go out on more of these mid night excursions to perhaps find a better way to set my mind at rest. Stepping through the streets with light footfalls out of the corner of his eye he spotted a shadowed figure darting down a street. Thinking it might be possible trouble he followed after the shadow. Knowing full well if it was a serious threat he was ill equipped to handle it. Still he’d sword to defend the city. Creeping down the alley after the figure he caught sight of it. A woman? Slowly and carefully he followed after her trying his best to be quiet and not disturb the events ahead until he smacked his shoulder clean into a wall. A cacophonous rattle of steel on stone rocked the alleyways. And seeing that his cover in the shadows was blown he stepped forth into Leth’s light. “Excuse me miss.” He spoke in a soft and airy tone as was his nature. Shrinking a little back he kept his eyes on her. A cool light of inquiry in his jade green eyes. Barely able to be seen beneath the darkened hood covering his face. “May I inquire as to what you’re doing out here at this time of night?” Stepping closer to the woman his figure calm and trying his best to be non-threatening. Hands open and hanging lightly by his sides. Could she be a lost visitor? Or a resident trying to sneak away from the family for some reason? Either way I’ve got to inquire.

[Faradae]

Faradae Faradae was a lonely snowflake in the blizzard that was Syliras. In some ways, the city seemed larger than Nyka. Maybe it was the narrowness that inhabited it, creeping in from opposite walls and lowering the ceilings of every room, and the tightness it brought with it, the people penned up like pigs ready for slaughter. The city’s inhabitants made comparable noise, their calls and cries uniting into a city’s voice that screamed for freedom. The walls were its restrains, Stormhold Castle its own chains, keeping the souls of a thousand people contained within. The rush was like a haze that kept the young stranger both excited and unnerved, like a fever, heating her to the core and sending wild stories her way, but draining her energy at the same time. She had been in Syliras for three days, and something was missing. It was the freedom, and the adventure. She heard all these wild tales, saw fleeting faces from far, but she knew it was an illusion, for she was nothing but a loner and an outsider during a cold winter in an unforgiving world. There was no saga spelt out for her, no road paved to glory and not the greatness of journey she had expected to witness. The journey had, in fact, been arduous, and the very idea of going back in a few days horrified her. ‘But,’ she thought, ‘being here isn’t much better. I know no secrets of this city, not the beautiful niches and not the interesting details that everyone else overlooks.’ And that was precisely what she wanted to find out about. It were the little things that made the world colourful, and the small twists that had the most fascinating stories in tow. There were two ways to change perception – either to change the subject, or the preceptor. Faradae was not about to alter her own character – there was no need to. She was inquisitive already, and the way she interacted with people had served to bring her acquaintances of the good kind. But she wanted to try and look at places with different eyes. The rush of the city lessened as she walked down the alleyway, towards the outskirts of the third tier, yet far away from the Gates through which she had entered the city only days ago. There was still a diverse variety of different people – and peoples – but she payed less attention to their mass and more to the individual now. Tonight however, she consciously chose to look at her surroundings rather than Syliras’ inhabitants and late-time visitors. She would see enough people in her life. It was the city that interested her for now, in all its hidden and less obvious beauty. She would leave soon, and unlike earlier, when a feeling of fatigue had overcome her, she realized now that she only had a very limited frame of time for this visit, and she would have to put it to good use. Her steps became faster when she instantiated the second way to change perception – by changing the surroundings. Instead of standing in the middle of the buzz, unable to see anything in particular, she left the tight-packed beehive that was the city centre and strode towards less-frequented areas. There was a coolness here, and it was only when she reached one of the outmost corridors that she realized she was alone, and night had fallen. She spent half another bell exploring the very edge of Syliras. Among other things, she spotted a richly ornamented and very representative oriel that seemed to face the wrong way. Instead of turning outwards to be one of the most expensive rooms on the entire tier, one that had windows that faced the open, it looked inwards, deeper into the street. There was a niche below it, and the owner had turned it into a small garden. A multitude of potted plants stood in neat and lush array. A bench was placed in the middle of it, ironically facing a brick wall on the opposite side of the street. Faradae found it quite imaginable that the owner had been rather displeased by the fact that their nice and pricy “apartment in an outward-facing house” had turned out to be not so outward-facing after all, and begrudgingly created their own little patch of nature inside to make up for it. She was about to inspect a little closer and maybe take a seat when a sound and a voice startled her from behind. “Excuse me, miss. May I inquire as to what you’re doing out here at this time of night?” Admittedly, she jumped a little upon hearing it, and only barely kept herself from spinning around on her heels, turning slowly instead. Maybe this was the little spark she’d been looking for. The voice had not sounded harsh, but non-judgemental and solicitous. It belonged to a hooded figure, hard to see in the dim lights illuminating the street. He was of human stature, and looked a little bulky in a heavy armour she thought she’d seen before in the squares. City guard, maybe? Faradae asked herself how he had managed to sneak so close without making enough sound for her to notice. While his stance was firm, he was not exactly radiating calm. There was a certain flurry about him that Faradae could not pinpoint at all. But she could marvel at him later, for now it was time to be polite and reply. “I suppose I got a little lost…” She faced him as he approached. There was a glint of green eyes, a short flash in the streetlight. She wished she could see his face. “I’m a foreigner, and my exploration grew a little more…extensive than anticipated.” Her voice sounded almost apologetic, but she did not feel sorry at all. For a moment, she considered what would happen if she just turned around and ran now, if he would follow her with rattling steps. She was sure she could escape, her bag was much lighter than a full armour and she could always shift. But she had no reason to, and possibly earning enemies in Syliras in exchange for a small thrill was no adequate trade. Instead, she asked a question, herself. "Who are you? And why do you ask my intentions?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

A cool wind now whipped through the small alleyway they had been standing in. The figure before him spun around allowing his eyes to take in the full fight of her. Even in the pale moonlight, what little there was thanks to the crescent slice of brightness adorning the sky. Shining brightly but faintly like a small scrape into the brightness of daylight that lay just beyond. Still His eyes now could take in everything getting this close. A mop of braided if a little tussled maple brown hair, a set of soft yet stern features. Thin arms and from what he could tell with her clothing long legs. Still with his distance he couldn’t get a good view of her eyes, one of the few things that escaped him. Stepping in a little closer he placed his left hand on the pommel of the now glinting sword hilt at his side. Even in the brittle moonlight he cut a striking figure in his armour, battered and dented though it may have been. He himself didn’t quite live up to the frame which the armour supplied. Still as he drew closer the glint of light from above and the craning of her neck to look at him allowed him the vision of brown depths. He couldn’t find a pupil within at least not in such fragile light. The small creak of steel shifted as he lifted his free hand up to pull back his hood freeing the thick loose dirty blonde hair and revealing his face. The rough J shaped car trailing beneath his eye and along his jaw. One of the only two flaws that marred him to any great effect. An air of curiosity was now cut as he listened to her talk. A foreigner, and one who had decided to explore the city. Judging by the location that they found their selves in if she intended to free herself from this spider’s web of tossing and turning streets. She was going to have a difficult time. Still he couldn’t help but let a small smile soft and one of reassurance crest his face. Still as frightening of a scenario as this was he held truly no malice at least not upon hearing her explanation. Watching her with the slight intent as he was he could see her visibly lock up. Almost like an animal cornered, weighing the prospects of fight or flight. A sight he knew all to well given his fathers and his trade before becoming a member of the knights. In an effort to appear more of a help than a threat he removed his hand from the hilt of his blade. Despite the fact that even with the hand resting on it he wouldn’t be able to draw it effectively. Then her second question sunk in as it cut the stillness of the chilled winter’s night air. Who was he and what did he want. Two simple questions yet if he spoke the wrong words he could come off much worse in the eyes of others. Pausing a moment to weigh the options of a lie and of the truth. If he spoke up his station hew could cause some serious issues with his higher ups but if he spoke of his actual rank it might hold no authority? A short moment passed and his response came slowly with it breaking the silence of the night once again. “My name is Alexander Faircroft. I am a squire of the Syliran Knights. And as for asking your intent I didn’t…” Breaking his words a moment he wondered how to follow up. Trying to sound like he spoke with a form of authority was difficult he could almost feel the black pit of uncertainty opening up beneath him, attempting to pull him in. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just are to see somebody out here in this wing of the city this late at night.” His calm soft tone carrying through once again. Still now an edge of nervousness to it, he was beginning to doubt himself highly, if he held the confidence to do this. “If I may inquire further, what brought a foreigner to this wing of the city? There isn’t much here besides residential living.” In all honesty he wasn’t fully buying her foreigner story. The bag she held was his first indication that she might have been attempting some underhanded task. The second was the way she froze when he confronted her. Thirdly what would a foreigner want with this section of the city. He’d been here long enough to have a lot of the mystery and majesty of the city to fall from his notice. As such he didn’t even register what they were doing here. If she produced a weapon he was ill prepared to deal with it at least in his current predicament. Still he tried to calm his mind and block out emotion looking purely at the facts. “I have one further question, if you are a foreigner in the city. Mayhaps you can tell me the reason for your visit?” A small wry smile now adorned his features. Gotcha thief. The thought flashed across his mind.

[Faradae]

Faradae Faradae did not flinch when the squire laid his fingers on his sword hilt. In fact, it amused her that anyone would find her terrifying enough to even consider drawing a sword against her when she was alone, even if it was in a dark alleyway. At the same time, the motion elicited nervousness in her. Someone so fast to grab their sword would certainly not hesitate to draw and use it prematurely. He came a step closer, looking her up and down with intensity. She, in turn, examined him, and they stood like two fighters in the arena, studying each other’s weaknesses in order to exploit them later. Now that he had stepped into a puddle of moonlight, she could determine the details of his appearance – he definitely was human, at least as much as her. His armour looked used, many a scar and scrape destroyed the perfect mirror she imagined it to be when freshly polished. His face, still half-shadowed by the hood he wore, was pretty, but despite a youth that fitted his voice, it held a certain hardness, eradiating from the blemished one side of it. Had he earned it in battle? Had it been an accident? Faircroft proceeded to tell her who he was, but continued to ask her questions that suggested he was not fully convinced of her story. Faradae was growing increasingly uncomfortable in her situation by the minute. If he was a squire of the order, his word held more weight than hers, full knight or not. It also meant that he knew the city well, and that he knew way more about combat than she did. Maybe she would not be faster than him after all. The thought made the derring-do she’d built up earlier evaporate into thin air. Her uncertainty did not keep her from putting on an act of obstreperousness. “Well, why do you think I got lost? Because I don’t know that city. That’s why I’m a foreigner, you know. I was trying to find my way back and ended up sightseeing instead.” Her words were mostly true, but the squire did not seem to believe her. His expression underwent several changes until he settled on half a smile. It looked wry, almost ironical and definitely not as trustworthy as he had acted before. “My business in the city is none of your concern,” she told him, taking a step back and crossing her arms before her chest in an exclusive stance. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Being protective of one’s city was one thing, but interrogating harmless people on open street was a whole different thing, night-time or not. She was guilty of no crime and she felt painfully reminded of the monks that plagued Nyka with their iron reign. The moment the words left her, she knew they had been unwise. It was clear that she had made the wrong kind of impression before, and she was arousing more suspicion with every action she took. Her harsh words might have been the vital step too far.

[Alexander Faircroft]

The confrontation of the woman had not gone entirely to plan. She’d gotten firmer in her standing even so much as a smile had crawled across her face as he looked her over and his hand touched the hilt of his blade. He was hoping a little show of willingness to use force might crack a somewhat unprepared person. Oddly enough though she’d held firm against it. Perhaps she was more used to dealing with people of authority? Still as he tried his best to pry a simple point of information from her it was widely apparent that maybe he’d jumped the crossbow on this and summed up things a little too quickly…Perhaps he still had a lot more to learn about how to be a knight than he knew.

As she spoke on and on her story held more and more weight and Alex couldn’t help but feeling like more and more of a fool. With each passing word. Eventually the hard demeanour he’d presented failed and he simply crumpled back into his significantly softer stance. Raising a hand to the back of his head and scratching the back of it lightly. He sighed out looking a little abashed and sorry for how he’d presented himself. The self-doubt now having fully swallowed what remained of his confidence. Her final words about her intentions in the city being none of his business punctuated the point with a rather stern hammer. Taking a deep breath he raised his hands lightly in a semi calming manner.

“I apologize for my forwardness. I’m still fairly new to the whole…Acting with authority thing.” A much softer look now falling over his features as he returned to his usual self the façade of a strong willed warrior he tried to present crumbled back to the still learning boy. “And you’re right your intentions within the city are your own business. I fear I may have overstepped. I was only trying to get a grasp on what exactly you were doing and jumped to conclusions but your story does have some weight to it.” His shoulders visibly slumped, as he now began to severely regret the approach he’d taken to begin with. Perhaps he should lead with the nice guy routine next time?

Running his fingers lightly over the small scruff that adorned his chin he pondered a question. “Well I know it’s not my place to ask what your intent in the city is but may I at least ask where you’re from, as a final weight to the story and once I have that I can give you my full apology for overstepping any bounds I may have crossed.” His fingers then dropped from the edge of his chin to take a hold of one of the many small icons around his neck. Tyveth please give me the reason to see truth here. If she’d noticed the sigils around his neck she’d recognize them as the many sigils of different gods. There was a different air to him now, one less filled with suspicion and forthrightness but with sincerity and honesty.

[Faradae]

Faradae The young knight in training shrunk into a helpless boy with an apologetic look on his face within moments. There was a change in his stance, too – from an upright position to something more slumped down and casual. He raised his hands in a soothing and slightly overburdened manner, just like an apprentice redirecting a demanding customer to his boss. Faradae, too, felt sorry for the way she had treated him. The way he reacted now clearly showed her that his intentions had not been bad at all, and that she had clearly discouraged him. His gesture worked perfectly well and she, herself, deflated a little, almost seeming half a head shorter now that she’d calmed. She lowered her glance, and took a step forward, as if to encourage him to talk to her again. The aggression and agitation had left her completely. Alexander Faircroft proceeded to voice his apologies and explain himself, in a manner much kinder than the one he had displaced before. This behaviour also seemed much more natural, and Faradae guessed that what she had seen before had been his work-face. She, too retracted her arms from their entwined position in front of her chest, opening the fists she had unconsciously formed and letting her arms hang freely. She tried a small smile. This time, it was a genuine one, if a little shy, and closed-mouthed. She did not flinch when he re-phrased his question. “I believe I have to apologize, myself,” she told him, now fully stepping up to him and extending a hand in greeting. “My name is Faradae, and I’m fresh in from Nyka with a message for a squire. You can probably imagine that a journey made in the middle of winter and spanning said distance was no walk in the park, considering I was alone. I haven’t made the best experiences with the ‘city guards’ of Nyka, hence my poor choice of actions towards you. I was afraid of being treated similarly, and I overreacted.” Her mouth twisted slightly downwards in an expression of self-regret. “We did not have the best start. Would you be so kind and take me back into more…. active regions of the city? I’m not sure I’ll find a direct way back, without stumbling into anyone else’s backyard.” She nodded over to the lonely bench bathed in moonlight. “I’ve only been here for a few days, so I’m having a bit of a hard time navigating this huge, beautiful castle.”

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

As Alex began to explain himself and softened up his posture, the woman he’d been inquiring into had done something similar. The cold exterior had begun to melt slightly as Alex had shrunk. As he’d dropped the hardened front he’d presented she stepped in closer now only a foot or two away from him. Extending her hand in way of greeting. She had a message for a quire. And he could imagine the journey from Nyka. Wait she was from Nyka? That explained her reasons fully for not enjoying the presence of a figure of authority.
“Well, Miss Faradae. Allow me to fully apologize and reprimand myself for my less than friendly approach. And thank you for filling me in on as to why you’ve been in the city.” Alex took her hand lightly and shook it gently. [color=#6F028A]“And as for you being from Nyka…I can sympathize with your distaste for authority. I spent some time in Nyka in the past and the monks there are brutal. So no-need to apologize where that’s concerned your worries were well grounded.” Alex’s face pulled into a small honest smile. Attempting to get across the fact that he genuinely didn’t carry any hard feelings against anything she’d said.

Though as she continued, her reason for being in this quarter of the city was apparent. She’d gotten lost. It all made sense and he couldn’t find a crack in her story. “Yes, I’d be more than happy to escort you back into somewhere a little more well traversed. And As for the poor start. My name is Alexander Faircroft. Squire in the slyliran knights. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” As he finished his sentence he took a slow and light bow towards her

Her head’s gesture towards a bench probably showed him that she’d been trying to find a way out of the maze of streets and ended up here. Taking a small moment to let her words sink in he glanced up at the castle again the pale and mystical moonlight illuminating some of the more intricate patterning in the brickwork of the castle. He’d spent so long in the city that a lot of it’s charm had begun to fade from him. But the capturing of the light on the stonework in this light was simply…Entrancing. He shook his head slightly to snap himself free from the ensnarement. “So. Miss Faradae, this way if you’d like to follow me. Mind the show falls it’s a little, heavier since the thirtieth.” He turned away from her moving slightly to the side as he took a step. Allowing her to walk next to him is she so wished as he led her from the dark corners of the twisting and interweaving web of narrow streets and back to the Main Street and main gates.

“If I may ask…” A small creep of curiosity sparking up from within. “Which squire was it for? I might know them.” He was being honest there and if she could tell him it might give them something more to discuss as they walked back through the winding and weaving streets.

[Faradae]

Faradae What the squire said sparked Faradae’s interest. “You say you’ve been to Nyka?” She could feel that he was less tense now, and some friendly conversation was about to ensue, a pleasant change after all the inconvenience that had preceded their encounter. “You speak like you’ve made experiences similar to mine when you were there. If I’m allowed the question – what happened to you when you were in Nyka?” She hoped she was not overstepping some invisible boundary with her question. Her intention was to share some experiences, not invade the squire’s personal space. She imagined that most people had one story or another to tell about the Nykan monks. She followed his gaze to view the beautiful ornaments the moonlight painted onto Stormhold’s mighty walls. While Nykan home were more richly decorated both in colour and in shape, the outmost boundaries of Syliras were painted by Leth himself, a shadow play of darkness and light, intricate and ever-changing. He tore his eyes away, and so did she. They strolled back to the inner regions of the city, but there was no rush to their steps. What had started out as a tough moment in a dark side street had become a late night walk in unexpected company, a ramble through sparsely-lit streets. They turned a corner and their bystreet joined some larger way, an alley lined with fine little homes, residences better than anything she dreamt to ever own, but less exquisite than what she had seen at the city’s edge. A more well-versed citizen would have been able to tell that they’d just crossed from the Illythian and into the Nettle District, but Faradae did not even know the districts of Syliras had names in the first place. “The message was for a squire named Ball,” she said, answering his question, “and I delivered it as soon as I came here. With some complications,” she added and a small smile spread over her face when she remembered her unconventional encounter with Vivienne. “Another squire helped me find him, she was called Vivienne Clarisse.” She looked over at the young man accompanying her, his armour clattering as he walked. “Do you know either of them? Ball is a little…different, so I’m sure you remember if you do.”

[Alexander Faircroft]

Time stamp

Time

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

As they continued through the winding streets of the city, she spoke up apparently he’d caught her interest when he’d said he’d been to Nyka. The overall atmosphere much lighter. He punctuated her question with a small nod. Though she followed on with a much greater question asking what it was like when he was there. What happened whilst he was there? Alex thought back cycling through some older memories. “Whilst I was in Nyka, I was…fourteen years of age. I learnt very quickly that not all forms of enforcement of the laws are reliable people.” He sighed relizing just how similar to one of the monk’s he’d probably come off in the first meeting they’d had. And knew exactly why she appeared so guarded.

The soft moonlight now bathed the path ahead of them a short walk but still one long enough for him to hold a conversation with the woman. A small walk of silence followed shortly after his initial response possibly whilst she was deciding whether or not to answer his question. And then she spoke. The message was for ball…A memory of pain shot through his left leg. With a slight grimace he let the name hit him. And then a follow on carried through. She’d been helped by Vivienne? He knew the girl, small light in both the literal sense and the complexion one. A good but possibly a little over courteous. Did he know either of them? Infact he knew both of them.

“I’m familiar with ball…We had a sparring match some time back…I lost in grand style. The little guy is a lot stronger than he looks. But he doesn’t know how to hide his intent. As for Vivi, I’m actually teaching her. She’s too fragile of frame for conventional fighting so I was asked to help her with my own unique style which admittedly I’m still working out the kinks with.” He smiled a little. Almost as if he’d been allowed to talk freely and didn’t have to keep up the gruff unfriendly knight act.

“I’m still sorry for earlier. Now I think on it I probably came off like one of the monks. And for that I apologise again. On another note though, what day did you arrive in the city, and what exactly did Vivi help you out with? She’s a nice girl but…Not that well versed in certain aspects.” He smiled a little more letting the moonlight catch the edge of the two silver teeth he had just behind the canine of his left side. A small glint, but definitely there.

[Faradae]

Faradae Now that the coldness of their first encounter had passed, Alexander Faircroft turned out to be a likeable man. He was the sort who did their work thoughtfully. The sort who apologized. A look at his face, now fully illuminated, told Faradae that he was sincere about it. He also had an honest face with eyes that spoke of emotions and a mouth that spoke courteously. He could have been pretty if it had not been for the huge scars marking his visage and the flaws in his teeth, but it was all for the better. He wasn’t vain. And when he smiled, she thought she saw an asymmetrical dimple on his left cheek, but she might have been mistaken. Likeable. She could relate to his experiences in Nyka and she did not need to ask what exactly had happened to him. In a single week, she had seen various assaults on citizens, almost all of them ending in their demise. She did not want to bring up something that would drive them back to discomfort, now that they’d just left this conversational stage behind. Instead, she nodded in interest when he told her about his acquaintance with Ball and Vivienne. He did not seem to like the former too much, but some fondness for the petite snow-lady spoke from his words. Faradae explained. “We met at the gates when I was in a… less than fortunate situation. Clothing-wise. It was getting a little cold, and the guards refused to let me in. She lent me her cloak and helped me find my way around, something I’m more than grateful for.” She almost felt a little protective over the smaller women when she heard Alexander’s words. “She’s certainly more tactful than me.” The mention of a specific fighting style sparked her interest. If there was anything the journey to Syliras had taught her, it was that the wilderness was more dangerous than she had anticipated, and that she needed to learn to fight. With weapons, but especially without them. “What is your fighting technique about?”, she asked as their boots clacked on the stone ground. The apartments were giving way to inns and bars and she started to recognize individual names. She’d been here before when she first entered the city. “Is it designed so that lithe people can manage it without being extremely slow? Then on the other hand, you’re wearing heavy armour, and you’re not so small. Why’d you use such a style?” She did not know enough about fighting to make elaborate guesses. When they passed a restaurant’s open window, she could feel and hear her own belly growl, prompted by the scent of roasted meat and baked vegetables. “It’s a shame you’re on duty. I’d love to sit down for late dinner with you.”