Closed Warm Comforts [Meville]

[Tythos Everstorm]

Timestamp: 1st Day of Summer, 513 AV. The long trek from the Spires towards Avanthal had turned into a brutal quest for survival once he had ventured past the familiar coniferous forests of Southern Taldera and into the barren Tundra of the northern reaches. As he trudged through the deep snow his legs sunk into the cold slush to slowing his momentum before he could even gain any speed. The constant need to pull his legs out of the snow had caused them to grow sore after only a few mile while also trying to focus on keeping warm in the cold, frigid, and fierce wind. The glimmering image of the sun reflecting off The Icewall Gates proved to be an inspiring site that caused the Isur to work through the annoying ache of his thigh muscles. In Typhos’s mind he compared the constant need to pull his legs out of the snow to performing a set of squats and lunge exercises to make his legs stronger. From his distance from the wall the guards that patrolled the gates curiously watched the being heading towards them, wondering who it could be. Their slight confusion as to whether they would stop the visitor or not stemming from Ty Typhos’s attire. Too withstand the chilling frost which the wind brought with every gust the isur wore his normal clothing which consisted of brown cotton pants and a linen shirt. However, that wasn't what caused the guards to take interest in the Isur as he trudged closer to the icewall. Typhos’s main source of his warmth came from the thick cured hunters hide which was wrapped around his body. The thick medium armor hide made mimicked a black bear as its fur provided insulation. Attached to the hide was a bears head that protected his head like a helmet. Over his armor the stocky five foot, two hundred eighty five pound isur wore a black wool hooded cloak with the hood resting over the top of the hide bears head. Underneath the cloak hanging from his back was his backpack which made it seem as if he had a hump-back; especially since his tent was rolled up horizontally across the top of his pack making the hum even larger to obscure his true body shape under the cloak . Thus, the curiosity of the guards believing a walking bear was heading right towards them as the nose of the cured hides head covered his face. The ice watch glancing to each other, and more interestingly gaining the attention from the Ice watch kelvic polar bears at the sides of the two fellow Ice watcher guards. Once he was close enough Typhos lifted his head to cast the gate guards a huge grin that went from ear to ear. This hadn’t been his first time to Avanthal as he remembered the last time he laid eyes onto the Ice gate. If the layout of the city hadn’t changed since he last visit, he would need to find the Savintar Warrens to rest for a few days and find a job. “Pleasant day to you all.” Were the only words he spoke to the guards as he nodded to each one before lowering his head again to keep in as much warmth as possible while entering into the city. The small walk through the city had easier than his quest to reach the gate since the citizens of the city had already created paths of their own through the snow for the day. Typhos’s knew how to enjoy the small things in life as he couldn’t wait to slip of his boots in a room of his own. The hulking bear of an isur had caught more than a few peoples attention as he walked past them. With every breath he made causing a cascading cloud of smoke to emitted from his nostrils. Once he reached the Savintar Warrens he reached out with his right arm, which was clad in a teethed metal armored gauntlet where the fingers, knuckles, wrist and forearm areas of the gauntlet were covered in irregularly shaped protrusions and pushed the door open. As he entered into the building the cold form the outside seemed to flood into the building behind him, causing his cloak to caress his back and hug his body. It might have seemed like an eerily strange sight for spectators as a hooded bear entered into the room. Reaching out with his green Izurdin marked left arm, Typhos swiftly shut the door. His low cut boots that ended at his ankles leaving a trail of snow in his wake as he walked towards the main office of the Warrens to go pay for a room. Once he entered into the office he slid off both the hood and the bears head attached to the armor with one sweep of his green garnet like hand. The man was clearly an Isur from his short stature, green left arm, light blue skin, and the slightly protruding bony ridge that stretched from one side of his face to the other just above his eyes and over the bridge of his nose. It was obvious Typhos had spent a vast amount of time in the cold from the collection of snow that had frozen against his eyebrows. He held his large grin as he smile at a Savintar Warrens employee and spoke with a strong baritone tone of voice which reverberated from his throat. "I am here for a room." using both of his hands to grip either sides of his cloak to fling them backwards to allow both of his arms to move freely; likewise showing off both his armored and green arm.

[Meville Brightshade]

The morning had been an unusually difficult one for Meville. He'd taken extra time to just leave his room, and it had cost him breakfast. At the time, it hadn't really bothered him he'd only had a good portion of seaweed to settle his morning rumbles that came from his stomach. One he had reached the main offices for the Warrens, however, he quickly realized just how hungry he actually was. For a good while, Meville had sat there in painful longing for something to eat. When the first visitors starting arriving, he did not hesitate to ask them for anything edible they might be willing to part with. In the end, he'd scored some kind of dried meat from a trapper selling furs and a bag of nuts from a travelling storyteller who had been a part of a larger group. The meat had been rather tough, but tasted delicious. Meville had forgone chewing and had just sucked on the chunk of dried meat, letting the smoky sweet flavors fill his mouth. The nuts he had downed right away, not really tasting anything more than a customary nutty flavor. Thanks to the kindness (and confusion) of his guests, Meville was now much more comfortable behind the heavyset desk of the office. The meat still sticking out of his mouth like a pipe, Meville idly flipped through the pages of the ledger where all information regarding guests and rooms were written down for the record. On his left were a stack of papers and documents he'd been slowly sorting through: various payments, purchases, and the like. His eyes skimmed the various names of the people who were currently staying at the Warrens. Mostly humans, a few Akalaks, and a Jamoura who had opted to stay there rather than the Winterflames for whatever reason. He remembered having quite a lengthy conversation with the furry biped as, often, Jamoura were too busy being entertained by the more important members of the city. It had been a pleasant chat, but cut short by the Jamoura's lack of sleep the previous night that figuratively forced the ape back to his room to rest. It left Meville alone, humming nonsense to himself as he scribbled little figures onto the corners of the pages. The sound of the door opening gave Meville a start as he had been thoroughly engrossed in his artistic endeavors. The meat fell to the floor and Meville with it in a desperate attempt to catch it before it hit the ground. As the food hit the floor, the footsteps of the visitor sounded within the room. Meville snatched the meat, shaking it a little before shoving it back into his mouth and jumping up to see just who it was that had decided to join him. By the time Meville's eyes were able to appraise the newcomer, the majority of the man's coverings had already been tossed to the floor. What met his gaze the study figure of an Isur: strong, powerful muscles, strange blue-tinted skin, and... a green arm. The man looked like a stone carving with an arm crafted from some kind of jewel. Completely taken aback by the unusual visitor, Meville just stared silently at the Isur, his mouth filled with the remains of the jerky. When the man asked for a room, Meville quickly popped back into action. He frantically swallowed the meat, causing him to cough a slight bit, before nodding enthusiastically at the strangely friendly face of the Isur. The large smile is what did it, as the man's brow seemed inappropriately dour, but Meville wasn't entirely picky as to what he was paying attention to. The smile was much more friendly than the bony protrusion, so he focused on that. "A room! Room, room, room. Of course." He paused, squinting in thought before letting his eyes widen in his forgetfulness. "Oh! Ah! Welcome to the Savintar Warrens, traveler!" Meville let out a few quick quips of laughter before he continued, glancing down at the ledger intermittently as he asked his next questions. "Do you have a preference for where you'd like to stay? Towards the east, west, south, north? We have several rooms with a better view of the sunrise - or sunset, but there aren't both. Are you comfortable staying with another person, or would you rather alone? We don't provide food, however the Luminary Commons aren't very far and have a vast array of whatever you might be craving! Either way, a single night for one person is only a gold Miza. Quite a good deal, I'd think. I've been paying it for a good long while now! How many nights do you plan on? Depending upon how long you stay, I'd say there are several things you should-" Meville stopped to both catch his breath and reevaluate the Isur. He looked cold, tired, but happy. There was a reason the man had come to Avanthal, but Meville had been a little preoccupied with the business of the matter to really pay the actual being any attention. Gesturing to a padded chair situated a comfortable distance from both desk and hearth that glowed with a cheery heat, Meville plopped himself into his own chair with a grin. "Ah, I'm sorry. You just wanted a room. I'll need your name and the number of days you plan on being here." It was rare for an Isur to visit the northern city. They were welcome, of course, but uncommon to the point where Meville had only had the opportunity to speak with three of them in his life. Twice, he'd been a little too young to really get anything out of the conversations. The last time, he'd been too preoccupied with the differences between male and female Isur to really ask about anything else. He offered the Isur and friendly nod to denote he was finished with his veritable onslaught of questions. He had more, of course, but they could wait until the man was situated.