Solo To Assess One's Raw Materials

In Which Zandelia Gets Reaquainted With Nyka

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Known as the Celestial Seat, Nyka is a religious city in Northern Sylira. Ruled by four demigods and traversed by a large crevice, the monk-city is both mystical and dangerous. [Lore]

To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Zandelia on March 4th, 2013, 6:25 pm

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Spring 4th, 513 AV – The City of Nyka


As she stood in the center of Nyka – if not, by the Nykan mentality, the heart of it – she found the memories that had lain dormant in the corners of her mind for years were already beginning to whisper to her. It was almost as if simply passing through the gates of the city had activated parts of her brain she had compartmentalized many seasons ago now, it seemed too fortuitous to be true really. She had expected to have to learn everything from the beginning, as she had done so before, however she was being provided with the shortcuts to circle around the basics and get to the focus of what she desired – influence, power and control. They were difficult concepts to try and hold over the Nykans, dangerously so she knew all too well. She could feel the eyes of the citizens upon her at every turn, weighing her and hating her with every glance, or if not hating her then not deigning to care about her.

How does one, from such a position, secure a pathway to the heights? she wondered as she flicked her emerald gaze up to the lofty heights of the Celestial Seat, the palace from which four of the most powerful beings in the realm of Sylira were weighted upon with devotion and awe.

“Or that is what people are led to think, perhaps” she muttered to herself as she shifted her gaze to sweep across what she could see of the Celestial Square.

It was small in comparison to the other four quarters of the city, but it was nominally neutral ground and so relatively safe for foreigners to live – in fact the only place they could really live, The Safe Haven Hostel, was pretty much the heart of the Celestial Square. It was where the more flavorsome of people could be met, from a Nykan perspective, and ironically drew a vast number of watchers and conversationalists despite the dislike for the outside flesh. The Fourth Day Market was on the other side, she knew, though she could not see it due to the bulk of the Celestial Palace and the Palace of the Supplicants. Now, there was the real reason she had begun to view the idea of Alvina rule with suspicion bordering upon the paranoid, even after her first handful of days in Nyka in 506 AV. If they were so sure of their control then why would they ritually bore themselves with hundreds of pity stories per day? They were Gods, or might as well have been, they could do what they liked.

But no, instead they sit in sufferance for people they have never met and they probably care little for. Something smells fishy about that to me, and it’s not just the whiff of the damned market. I’ll bet the Monks hold the real power, probably keep the Alvina on a short leash considering their numbers and proximity. Have to hand it to them though, what a way to control a city! Perhaps I should learn a little from them she mused as she walked past the Hall of the Robes, further reinforcing her ideas subliminally.

In the course of her musings she made a full circuit of the Celestial Square until she was satisfied that she had familiarized herself with all of the locations there, their distances apart and the general bustle that emanated from each one – or lack thereof. She turned past The Great Infirmary and decided to walk through the Southern Quarter first.

Let us start with the Order of the Bountiful Wheat, perhaps they can nourish my mind by virtue of existing. At the very least it will give me time to try and formulate some form of a plan, present some opportunities… she told herself as she paced her way slowly towards The Lover’s Bridge.


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Last edited by Zandelia on March 7th, 2013, 9:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Zandelia on March 4th, 2013, 7:57 pm

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The Bridge of Lovers was one of the more curiously moving places in Nyka, curious for it lacked the complex elegance of many of the other places but seemed to resonate with the ethos that its name was inspired from in a very tangible way. The smooth lines possessed an elegance that many a Nyakn, she knew, admired and flocked to. It was a symbol of budding love, renewed love and heartbreak all in one, and its own mythology came attached to the general package. Zandelia was not one to dwell upon sentiment in such a manner but it still eased her nerves slightly as she passed over it and into the Southern Quarter of the city – the bastion of the bread makers and food distributers. She could certainly use some allies in this portion of the city, food was scarce for those foreigners who were not duplicitous enough to avoid begging for it.

Food rationed and forbidden from being sold in the entire city. Another excellent method of control, making a necessity into a sorely rare commodity. It makes everyone reliant upon the Order of the Bountiful Wheat and is a wise lesson for one such as me methinks she told herself as she finished crossing the Bridge of Lovers and entered the Southern Quarter proper.

As she passed into one of the main streets of the quarter she noticed a group of monks staring at her as she passed them, their eyes and shifted body language told her all she needed to know – she was here on sufferance and had best not cause any trouble. She was sure that they would tail her for a while but she planned no mischief this day and so would cause them no grief. They would become bored after a while. The stones were the classic pearly grey of the majority of the city, artful inscriptions and effigies made of wheat were dotted here and there through the area – she knew they probably spanned the whole of the quarter, here and there. The Southern Quarter was where the majority of the farmers, food processors and bakers were housed – if not all of them. Some spent their days upon the farmlands which spewed forth, apparently, two harvest a year thanks to the influence of the Alvina – Skerr.

“Legend or not it is something worthy of consideration,” she noted to herself, “it is a pillar of control and belief. The two seem very much intertwined indeed. How can one even begin to wriggle into such a structure?” she finished before carrying onwards, her feet taking her where they willed.

It was a difficult task she had set herself, one which would have been better set for any other city in truth. Yet, she had chosen Nyka for her own reasons – first and foremost that of her father, who was within the walls somewhere she had been told. Still, there also burned in her a sense of manifest destiny. If she could not accomplish, after years of painstaking development of her skills, even the remotest foothold in Nyka – well then she really was a loss and had nothing to her name. There was challenge to her thinking, the thirst to prove herself able and show the world – if in secret – that she was not entirely mundane and shackled to nothingness. She passed the Sacred Flame – a shop of religious artifacts and waxen products, before moving on swiftly – he had no plans for the place as of yet. Still, she filed away the recollection for possible future ideas.

And so ends the Southern Quarter and my knowledge of it. Pitiful but something at least to work with. The art of control of produce, of an item of substance, and how it can enslave thousands if worked well enough. That, in itself, is a lesson worth a small portion of walking. The real question is how to apply it she mused, leaving that for another time as she began to make her way towards the bridge towards the Eastern Quarter.


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To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Zandelia on March 5th, 2013, 11:33 pm

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As she entered the Southern portion of Nyka the first, and most noticeable, difference in the transition was the change of sigils adorning the colorful buildings surrounding her. As well as the usual, almost casually placed, works of artistry – murals of high quality abounded in this almost gaudy sector – the circular sigil of Laat figured prominently. Circular in nature it represented two things to Zandelia’s intellect, firstly that it was modeled after the coinage which the Order of the Heavy Coffers held and the second was that it symbolized the circular nature that the material wealth followed. Wherever it went it originated, and ultimately ended for the most part, from within the Order’s vaults. She had heard it muttered that they possessed enough to buy the whole city several times over and that the only reason they had not done so was the age old pact between the four ruling Alvina.

Yet another tightly regimented leash of control, designed to subjugate and balance the entire city. It would see that the real question is not how they do it, but how could I ever hope to wriggle myself into it? she thought, a slight air of depression filling her mind for a while as she trailed the streets.

The Flaxen District was the primary attraction that the quarter controlled by the Order of the Heavy Coffers possessed, as well as the fact that they loaned money to citizens filled with a sense of manifest destiny that soon evaporated when the interest came home to nest. Bubbling with life and spanning a fair portion of the quarter it housed everything from a brothel to stalls for a multitude of goods – it was the best place to purchase any form of merchandise she knew, though the prices were often higher than other places within Nyka. Some said that you paid for the quality but Zandelia just reasoned that they wanted to fill their purses more and could afford to charge higher rates with the backing of the monks. At any rate, she passed through it and out the other side without much incident beyond the occasional hawker of wares.

“At least they are more accepting of foreigners here, at least until their coin evaporates spontaneously” she muttered under her breath as she continued her circuit and headed back towards the Celestial Square.

She passed Herring Square along the way and paused for a few moments to take in a section of the city she had not visited upon her previous trip in more detail – assessing it for any possibility for the season. To all intents and purposes it seemed to be a fish market filled with a variety of merchandise and, she noted, a good score of performers and street musicians lined up in various spots attempting to entertain the crowd. At least, that is what the untrained layman might have seen but for Zandelia the place almost seemed to breathe with the pulsing energies of her trade. It was a veritable cauldron of possibility, the tales being told and the half-whispered exchanges of information and gossip that swamped her ears was almost deafening in its enticement. She closed her eyes and resisted the urge for now, she would return another time and try to get to grips with just how much of note was discussed amongst the throng.

Still, a possibility for gathering something of interest at least. Not bad for another small wandering she told herself.

She made her way towards the Bridge of the beginning, crossed it and entered back into the Celestial section of Nyka. From there it was only a short walk towards her next destination – the Northern Quarter.


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To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Zandelia on March 6th, 2013, 6:30 pm

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As Zandelia made her way towards the bridge that connected the Celestial and Northern Quarters she, for the first time in the day, found something that she did not remember. There had been a bridge before, of that there was no doubt, but it was not the bridge that she now saw before her gaze. This was newer, almost fresh in its construction perhaps. The old name had been consigned to the depths of her memory, but she knew not if it still bore the same moniker in its new rebirth. Certainly the faces of those who gathered upon it, talking to whomever they willed within the spirit realm as she p[assed, were the same – so perhaps, she reasoned the body only had changed and not the name itself. Tradition and superstition were difficult things to change, tricky in the least, and Nyka was rammed with such ideals. She crossed and made a mental note to research what had happened to the old bridge her memory recalled into her mind’s eye.

So, some things have changed then at least. Small things perhaps but others may have trailed in their wake. Perhaps there will be a few rays of hope for me after all she mused, her spirits lifted a little by a non-existent bridge – an almost laughable situation.

The Eastern Quarter was the remit of the Order of the Sharp Blade, she knew, and their sigil was dotted everywhere as a reminder of that fact – of the quarters they had the most easily ignored but also the most prolific marker. It seemed to slip into almost everything her gaze touched as she meandered her way through the various streets. It was not particularly necessary in her view though, seeing as routine patrols of monks carrying veritable arsenals of bladed weapons paced their territory with purposeful, stoic natures. Of all the quarters the eastern was where the greatest martial might was concentrated apart from the walls of Nyka themselves, which was almost a tertiary territory of the Sharp Blade that was begrudgingly deemed necessary by the other orders.

“They’re not about to cut their noses off to spite their faces after all, protection is invaluable in a dangerous world full of foreigners” she sighed to herself, once again seeing another pattern of control that was difficult to break.

The Order of the Sharp Blade were difficult creatures to understand though, far more so then their brethren of different natures. They were at the same time least and most willing to accept foreigners in her mind. They treated her with overt suspicion as she walked, deeming her able to do so merely by her own passivity perhaps. Yet, she had heard that they were also the most welcoming in terms of what they could learn from other warriors. Their selective nature would, perhaps, give her an angle which she could work with but it was a dicey one – a literal double-edged blade in many ways. She nodded to herself and put the thought aside for a while as she took in the sights once more. The Warfields were nearby, she knew that well after her first visit to the city – she had been forced to explore it in some of her more shady workings and so she ignored it on this venture into the quarter. What she had forgotten, however, were the Bloody Staves and Sharp Tongue Pub establishments – a large slip of her memory she found herself berating herself for terribly.

A good place for information that too, the pub, always full of drunkards willing to speak to those with an ear, a smile and a full purse to buy them beverages with. I shall have to visit there in a few days time when I am more prepared to begin my ambitions she told herself as she continued her slow wanderings.

There was precious little to see in terms of physical locations for her trade, however, and she found herself making her way back towards the Celestial Quarter sooner than she liked to begin her last venture into feint memory.


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To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Zandelia on March 7th, 2013, 7:02 pm

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The last main bridge of Nyka, the one that connected the Celestial region and the Western Quarter, possessed the name most steeped in the superstitious culture of the Nykans. The Cursed Bridge was its moniker, a more depressing name she could not think of in truth. It seemed almost a pitifully foolish name for something that acted as a major connection between city regions but she had never credited the denizens of Nyka with much innovative spirit. In some ways they were advanced beyond measure, in other they were as backward as the Protohumans of the past – as far as she could see. She thought about that as she crossed its impressive structure she was alone, no monks patrolled its pathway and any loving Nykan wouldn’t go within a stone’s throw of it. However, all Zandelia could see was craftsmanship of the greatest quality. In sheer technical capability it would have taken skills that rivaled the creation of the Celestial Palace.

Though I am a little unfair upon the Protohumans, they weren’t so primitive. I should know, I bloody met one of them…oh Gregor, I’d kill for your muscle power right now she whispered to herself mentally.

Nothing happened to her as she entered the Western Quarter, no clawed hands had sought to rip her into the Aperture below her and no creatures of myth had tried to steal her into what the Nykan’s concept of hell was formed of – it was simply a bridge.

“Superstitions, if you could earn money from them you could earn it here that’s for damned sure” she chortled, her heart a little lighter now, as she made her way into the streets before her.

The gates of the city were situated on the edge of the Western Quarter, the quarries surrounding them like silent sentinels, she knew that enough from passing through them three times in her lifetime now. Guarded by well trained and equipped monks it was a bastion that was useless in terms of positioning for power – it was nominally shared equally between the orders. She still fancied that she could, perhaps, find a contact or two who were willing to watch for travelers and the like – perhaps if she was able to convince them it was for the good of Nyka as a whole. Still, the idea had merit but little room for actuality. She filed it away inside her skull with the others already there, she would see what future reconsideration might bring. As with the other quarters the sigil of the controlling order was prevalent, though the craftsmanship of them was astoundingly better – to be expected from an order of artisans perhaps.

The Order of the Tempered Anvil, now there is an interestingly loose regime indeed. Nominally controlling the crafts of the city but more interested in creative beauty than anything else – or so it is said. I wonder how much of that is truth and how much, in actuality, they pull strings from behind the veil they have created? she mused once more, finding a puzzle that intrigued her for a time, something worth investigating in the coming days.

The seat of the Tempered Anvil lay at the heart of the quarter and was as impressive and immense as the other three of the city. She doubted she would ever see any of their insides without committing some highly illegal actions but it served to at least remind herself of its general location relative to the other characteristically colorful buildings. Of more interest to her were the stores that plied their wares and created things of outstanding beauty. Their wealth posed a tempting target or two amongst the general hubbub of the people. The Blinding Light Studio was particularly seen as a tender little morsel to her mind, an area where she could make some good headway if she could only find herself a ‘friend’ or two within its walls. The others were, of course, of reasonable note but none really compared to the workshop filled with gems and assorted items of value that comprised the Studio.

It was with that passing thought that she noted The Wizards Thumb, not so much an applicable resource in relative terms but more of a passive interest to her. She knew some magic and, perhaps, others would in time enter her set of skills if she so chose to visit the edifice of world magic that the Thumb represented and taught – to those of ability and some standing at least. She began to make her way back towards the Celestial Square from whence she had come, taking the long and scenic route as she did so and with much to muse upon.

However, who can I illicit to help me with my desires, that is the real question. Ximal is too honorable and Ana has been growing a little distant of late. Chamaeleon is not one of my most trusted allies either. So…perhaps I shall have to make do with myself…just myself she ended her musings with that depressing thought and decided that she had reminded herself of enough already this day.

She would rake in influence, but the actual amount she could get was still up for some debate.


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Zandelia
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To Assess One's Raw Materials

Postby Balderdash on March 23rd, 2013, 9:34 am

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Delicious rewards! Happy days and jubilation!


Skill XP Awarded
Intelligence 3
Observation 3
Philosophy 4


Lores: Nykans Are No Sheep, Nyka Layout, Southern Quarter: Food Lords, Eastern Quarter: Counts of Commerce, Northern Quarter: Barons of Blades, Western Quarter: Fabulous!, Monsters Aren’t Real, Everything is Control

Items and Consequences: Nil

A fascinating look into Zand's mind! I feel sorry for the poor girl- Seeing the world so starkly must be stressful.

If you have any questions or concerns about this grade, please PM me. A happy you is a happy Balderdash!

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