[Nyka location] Palace of the Supplicants

by **Liar** on December 26th, 2011, 7:59 pm

The Palace of the Supplicants

Modest by divine standards, the Palace of the Supplicants adjoins the Celestial Palace like a clinging younger brother. On the other side of the tall red entrance doors is a single large room with impressive arches between glassless windows; a long carpet paints a line over the stone to the other end of the hall, where a single man, the Judge, sits at a large desk among many papers and pens. All who would see the Four who govern the city must stop here first to file their petition and wait their turn. The Celestials take audiences with the citizenry for matters of high import, such as major crimes and feuds, changes in city or quarter law, problems with monsters, and granting full citizenship to those born outside the walls. They may also be petitioned to receive personal offerings or give blessings, but those who would come for that wait at the whim of the Alvina.

In fact, waiting is the fate of all Supplicants at the Palace. The Celestials only meet once every four days, after all, and if you miss that day, you must wait four more. On either side of the long path, many people establish makeshift tents and fires, mumbling about their troubles to pass the time. Each of them has their name listed somewhere on that desk in the back, and each has an ear trained to the voice there that might call it.

Skerr’s monks do not visit to grant food to these people, but it is perfectly legal for family to drop by with the food that had been delivered to their house. Kind souls donate to those who are without, while eager hands give out pamphlets on political as well as charitable matters. Beggars frequent the Palace between the Supplicants, since it is so difficult to tell them apart. Games break out as easy as fights, but there are always a few monks around to keep the peace.

Some matters do not require the attentions of the Celestials, though it is arguable that these are even more difficult to address. These include leasing for residences and shops, arguments concerning taxes and debts against the city bank, and temporary citizenship visas for foreigners. Most of the non-Nykans present populate the Palace for the last reason, and must depend on the generosity of the people around them for food, until they are granted a ration by the Judge. It is argued that a single form is all that is required of him, for a foreigner to receive their due and be on their way, and yet many wait nearly a week before they can be adequately fed.

NPC :

NOTE: To apply for temporary citizenship, post here and notify a storyteller for moderation. Keep in mind that food and lodging can also be acquired at the Safe Haven Hostel, as well.

by **Ezra Crenshaw** on February 8th, 2012, 12:54 am

40th day of Winter

“Crenshaw, Ezra,” bellowed the frazzled judge sitting behind a wall of teetering papers on his desk. His long white beard grazing the table as he flattened the creases in his long dark robes with the flat of his hand. Ezra had deposited his name almost a week ago. He would have done it on the 32nd but he spent most of that day patching himself up at the Nine Staves after a close encounter with a flock of Greenwings. It wasn’t like the trip was out of the way, he had to see Ren and return the book he borrowed.

The line snaked around the outer archways where beggars mixed in with foreigners and supplicants alike. The red door crept slowly closer each day but the thickness of some of the participants waiting made him scratch his head. He had made sure to bring the papers Dolan had given him after Ezra dropped Ren’s name in the crooked looking man’s lap. Ren’s contact had discretely motioned to a row of run down buildings on Mill Street and pushed a paper into Ezra’s hands with the heading ‘Ridge, Cole’, the name of a recently deceased Nykan. “Take yer pick,” Dolan said exchanging the leasing document for a sack of gold rimmed Laats. “Make sure you present them’s to ol’ man Ricard, if he’s still kicking that is! Ha!” It seemed obvious to bring the corresponding papers. Ezra couldn’t surmise how so many failed to get that step right.

Judge Ricard Landre sat with his hand outstretched when Ezra arrived at the massive desk. His stomach grumbled, something the Judge seemed adequately used to. The entire time waiting he had to portion out his last fish, leaving the line was out of the question; so by day five, when he was down to just rations, the old bandaged man started to really feel it. Ricard shook his hand impatiently, which Ezra had come to find meant the Judge was in one of his better moods.

“Leasing in the Southern District.” Ezra said, presenting the papers to the robed man who snatched them from the air with a quickness belying his age. In truth, Judge Ricard Landre would rather read the documents than talk to the Supplicants but recent experience had showed that failing to make an attempt warranted the deafened old man’s wrath far quicker.

Ricard grumbled and scrawled a quick signature on the document accepting ‘Cole Ridge’ as the new tenant of 121 Mill Street. Ezra accepted the document with a bow and pushed open the massive red doors. When he was clear of the Palace he brought a thumb to his nose in disgust.

“Good riddance, ya ol’ coot!”

by **Lucas Arias** on February 17th, 2012, 3:25 pm

Winter 80, 511 AV

Shyke. That was the only word that described Nyka adequately in Lucas‘ opinion. He was already questioning his decision to come here. He should have stayed in Syliras or run away to Zeltiva to study as he had originally planned. Petching pilgrimage! This place here was crazy! Completely and utterly crazy! Upon successfully making it through the gates, he had looked for a market where he could buy some food because his stomach had started growling, but he had been informed that selling food was illegal in the city. It was illegal!

He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe it. According to the people of Nyka it had something to do with the gods or Alvina or whatever things ruled this place, but as far as he was concerned it was more likely that a drunk monk had been responsible for that stupid law. Anyway, he had been told that citizens of Nyka – temporary or otherwise – received free rations, so he was on his way to the Palace of the Supplicants now to sign up for his rations so that he could fill his stomach – even thoug he definitely wasn’t going to stay!

The palace looked kind of nice, but Lucas was not in the mood to appreciate it. Instead he stared at the people that were waiting in line. A few of them were even camping there! And there were beggars! He had never seen beggars in Syliras! It only occured to him now how sheltered his life had been. The knights had provided him with free food, free clothes and a warm bed. How was he even supposed to find a place to stay if he had less than one hundred golden mizas in his pocket? Were you given free housing together with the food?

He certainly hoped so. So he waited and waited and waited. It seemed as if he had already deposited his name months ago. He also hadn’t figured out where he was supposed to get guidance in regards to his gnosis mark yet. Maybe the people in the palace would be able to help him with that as well? Petching Nyka. Why did it have to be so complicated?

by **Liar** on February 19th, 2012, 8:16 pm

“Take this form,” the grumpy old man said. “And this one, and this one.” One was an extensive survey concerning his heritage and intentions, the next was a long list of rules and courtesies required of a Nykan citizen (which he was advised to memorize), and the third was a questionnaire detailing his reasons for wanting to see the Alvina. He could have finished them all in an afternoon, and returned them to Landre before dinnertime.

Then, five days passed.

On the first day, a young girl had offered him a whole bowl of blackberries in exchange for a piece of his strange orange hair; on the second, he had endured a long, one-sided discussion about the mercy of the Blades Alvina, Uphis, who gave him a bit of cereal every time his attention strayed. (“You’re a swordsman, are you?” He persisted. “There’s a place for you in the North, fightin’ for gold. Give a good glare to that Skerr’s man and I’ll tell you where it is.”) On the third day, he had gotten mixed up in a beggar’s quarrel and suffered a golden throwing disc to the shoulder; it was not until the fourth that an old woman begrudgingly attended to it and let him steal a whole loaf of bread. It was early in the morning, on the fifth day, that the terse and gravelly voice somehow bellowed through the hall and to the Syliran’s ears.

“Lucas! Arias!”

However long it took the ex-squire to reach the front seemed far too long, for the man at the desk. He grumbled to himself before he said, “Here’s your paperwork. Keep it close and be ready to show it. You’ll have to come back if you lose it. And since you didn’t mark Safe Haven, here’s the place where they’ll be delivering your food.” The paper said 391 Bronze Rd at the top, and included a scribbled letter to the building’s owner. “You’ll owe Nerman Voich three-fifty laats for it, or whatever the equivalent is in whatever you have. As for our dear Celestials...”

He shuffled through some papers. “They aren’t meeting for another three days. I’ll put your name on the list, if you want to wait. Leave, if you want. Come back on Eight-eight, and we’ll see if they get to you.” With that, he marked something on another paper and yelled over Lucas’s shoulder, “Madon! Brinestrider!”

by **Lucas Arias** on February 24th, 2012, 2:59 pm

Lucas made a face as the grumpy old man handed him a form – and then another one and another one. Why did those Nykans want to know about his heritage? Were they conservative and racist and didn’t allow anybody to live here whose blood wasn’t pure? Well, he was a pureblood, standard human despite his „friends‘“ insistence that he was just a dirty Inarta bastard that should go back to his eagles – and he would prove it! And his intentions were honorable. He was here … he furrowed his brow a little as he looked at the form. He was here to serve the gods and receive guidance in religious matters. Yes, that was it. That sounded good! That was also why he wanted to see the Alvina. He wanted to serve and receive a bit of guidance. There was no need to go into details about his past experiences with divine beings just yet.

The list of rules proved to be the hardest part. Lucas had never good at learning things by heart – apart from swearwords and dirty jokes, so he spent the better part of the first day just sitting there, staring at it until his eyes hurt and he developed a headache of tremendous proportions. He almost threw the damn list away.

He’d thought that he would have to wait a few hours at best. It had never occured to him that he would have to sleep here and that he would starve if the citizens of Nyka didn’t help him. The blackberries the girl gave him were definitely appreciated, the fact that he had to part with a strand of his hair less so. He was a little worried that he would be bald when he left the palace again. There didn’t seem to be any other red haired people in this city! He just nodded at the man who talked to him about the Blades Alvina and just shoveled cereal into his mouth until his stomach threatened to burst. By the third day he was almost ready to leave and beg the knights to take him back again. The woman who treated his wound on the fourth day seemed to be the only normal person in the whole city so far.

When the man finally called his name on the fifth day, Lucas was tired and grumpy and convinced that he was hallucinating. It took him a few moments to realize that it was finally his turn. He took the papers, a little confused. „319 bronze Rd.“, he read. He had no idea where that was and whether not marking Safe Haven had been a bad idea. He also didn’t know who Nerman Voich was. What he did know though was that he didn’t have 350 laats or mizas or anything else, which meant he would have to get a job (and he hated work!).

„I think I’d like to wait“, he decided. „I’ll come back on the 88th. Thank you Sir.“ He wanted to say more, but then the man had already called another name. Lucas looked vaguely confused and offended, but then he just shrugged his shoulder and left. He had three days to explore the city now and decide whether it was worth it or not and how much he really hated it.

by **Seryk** on July 21st, 2013, 10:06 pm

summer 2nd

Seryk loved being in nyka at the moment, any place with thick walls was preferable to the madness and danger that was the wilderness outside. But by the divine, the bureaucracy of this city was insane. The line was long enough that some people had found it necessary to camp down in front of him and fro what he gathered it could take day's before he would get his papers filed and he could get the free rations. He almost wanted to give up there and then, but he didn't know for sure if he could get work without a vista and the save haven costed money. So no matter how much just sitting around and waiting for day's bored him. It was a necessary evil and he'll would just have to deal with it.

by **Savio** on August 12th, 2013, 10:13 am

52nd of Summer, 513AV

Savio limped into the Palace of the Supplicants not knowing what he should expect. A part of him assumed it would be much like the Employment office in how things operated, but inside was much larger and extravagant than the simplistic office that he had gotten his job from. As it should be since it was so close to the Celestial Palace. Savio was curious of these divine beings, but he had no intention on meeting them. His purpose was to make his stay in Nyka a little more permanent by getting steady food now that he was no longer staying at the Hostel.

Savio waited in the very long line that led up to what appeared to be a large desk in the far back of the palace. Yup, Savio’s suspicions were correct. He was going to have to play the waiting game once more. But this time, it would be much more unpleasant because he was still suffering from the injuries he had sustained from his entrance exam for Ximal’s IronFist School.

by **Erosynielissave** on September 30th, 2013, 1:19 pm

1st of Fall 513

Save had heard of this place. As much as she wanted nothing to do with it, she needed to apply for citizenship, and the voucher for food just in case. She needed to blend in to the populace if she was going to live here. The line was ungodly long and the smell near this place was extremely unpleasant to her senses. But there was no way around this. She would just have to wait.

Patience was not her virtue...