Completed Duck, Duck, Swan!

[Oriah]

Winter, Day 3, 513 AV

People everywhere. Pushing, shoving, chattering, shouting. People in the streets, people hawking their wares, people on wagons. Knights, with their shining armor and unreadable features, dragging ne'er do wells to gods knew where, while children chased after one another, their voices high and shrill in the midday air. And it wasn't just people swarming past the lone Benshira's vision. There were animals, too--mules, horses, chickens in tiny wire cages, pigs squealing through wooden bars, cows stubbornly blocking pathways as people yelled in furstration.

And always, as it was whenever she found herself anywhere near large cities, there were the smells.

Oriah breathed thin and shallow through her nose, a powerful, impractical desire to return to the dangerous wildlands overwhelming her. At least there, she could breathe. Here, she found her nose assaulted with scents of crowdedness in close quarters, of grimy animals, waste, dampness, and overall unpleasantness.

The girl sighed, releasing the pent up air in her lungs. It was no use dwelling on such things; she needed to find a place to stay, and that was the only priority that mattered at the moment. When she finally found the White Swan Inn, she had every intention to bathe, eat, and sleep for the next twelve bells. There was nothing sweeter in her mind. Especially not in her present circumstances.

"Yahal, lend me courage," Oriah murmured under her breath, then dove into the crowd, allowing it to carry her away from the main gates and deeper into the city.

The Benshira tried not to mind as people inadvertently jostled her, half of her senses trained on where she was going and the other focused on her belongings. Her drum she kept wrapped snuggly in her arms, while her pack...well, there wasn't much she could do about that. She merely hoped Syliras's reputation alone would keep her other possessions safe from the wayward fingers of thieves.

----Two Bells Later----

Oriah looked up at the walls that had somehow inexplicably rose to surround her and cursed. Loudly, fiercely, and in common.

"Petch."

She was lost.

oocLet me know if the date doesn't work for you

[Xira Hezmek]

Winter always brought forth a frenzied activity so common to the residents of the keep. In the spring the people were out in the fields, tending to the crops that would feed all in the city. In the summer the heat dampened the spirits and activity dwindled to moving when moving was needed and with the fall the people were once again out in the field, harvesting and celebrating the harvest season. But it was in the winter that the majority were cooped up in the keep, moving about doing errands and jostling each other in the hallways and streets just to keep warm. So it was so that midday.

People were everywhere, children were getting underfoot, adults were pushing their way through the crowd. Near the gates a wagon's wheel broke causing a dreadful traffic jam. With so many people, so many hallways, districts and streets to go through, finding one man among them was difficult, to put it mildly. Yet that was what Xira's first assignment was. The young man thrust his cold hands into his jacket for warmth. He could not resist stroking the parcel as if to reassure himself that it was still there. Xira was on his way to deliver to a Terrance Windwine, whoever that was. His mother, an aged crone, had an idea where he would be and promised to pay him on his return. Should the young man not be at the White Swan, or the Hearld's arm, or the Rearing Stallion, a hunting he must go.

Unfortunately, despite having lived here for all of his life, Xira was prone to getting lost.

Thankfully, Xira had a firm hold on his current location and knew the general direction he had to go. The crowd was thinning down the short cut through the Illythian District he was taking. Hopefully the shortcut didn't take longer than the main hallways.

"Petch!" someone cried out in common.

"Excuse me?" Xira inquired, not out of offense. His friends had tongues worse than sailors sometimes. He merely felt concern for the woman. She was about his age and... remarkably looked like she could be his sister. With the same olive skin tone and remarkably blue eyes. "Is there a problem?" He continued, now much more intrigued.

[Oriah]

Oriah twitched in surprise. A scolding for her foul language was about the last thing she had expected, forcing her to wonder if swearing was actually banned and regulated in Syliras. Perhaps, she would have to stick strictly with Shiber from now on. Or would they...could they possibly have translators? She imagined identical, stern faced figures, stationed every few strides, listening in on all conversations...

Then the Benshira finally caught sight of the man who had spoken, and promptly lost her caravan of thought.

"Umm," was her brilliant reply, which had taken the place of something a bit more snarky when she realized the stranger was gazing at her with equal wonderment and not outright disapproval.

He looked so much like her, at first glance. So much like home. Olive skin, bright eyes, dark hair. He even had the lean build her people often possessed, neither bulky nor overly thin, naturally suited for life in the ruthless deserts. For an instant, she found herself hurled back through time and across several cities, nestled once more within the familiar confines of sun-bleached tents and nut brown faces.

But this was not home. Her reverie came to a jeering, screeching halt, dumping her unceremoniously back into the present. The cold, wintery, confusing-as-shyke present. Oriah approached the man warily, clutching her drum closer to her chest. She looked side to side, then peered up at him, curiosity written clear across her dusty face. The Benshira was still not wholly used to civilized customs, especially not after her recent travels, so she may have leaned in a little to close, unmindful of the breach of personal space.

Upon closer inspection, the girl decided this stranger was not quite as identical in feature as she initially thought. For one, his eyes were more of a sea-like blue, similar to those swarthy sailors who ruled the Suvan. Oriah knew this, because she had kissed one once, on the cheek. And when she had, she was struck by the infinite blueness of his eyes, which were much deeper than her own and seemed to stretch as endlessly as the Suvan itself.

For another, his hair was darker, too. It reminded her more of a raven's wings, whereas hers was something closer to damp sand or toasted bread. The thought of warm bread made her salivate a little, but she ignored it for the time being.

Lastly, the man's entire demeanor seemed...different. He appeared well-kept, his face clean, his clothes crisp. It wasn't that Oriah was something feral or savage-like in comparison, but she was rather admittedly dusty. And raggedy. And much too close to his well proportioned, pleasant face, her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar like a desert child seeing a fish for the first time.

Oriah retreated hastily back to a more polite distance, suddenly finding the enclosed quarters a bit too warm. She cleared her throat, then blurted out the only response that had come to mind.

"I am lost."

[Xira Hezmek]

Lost huh? Not an uncommon problem in Slyiras. The city was massive and even residents got lost. Such as himself, but today he was doing pretty good about keeping track of where he was going. Xira really should hand her off to the main gate's welcome center. Trega there was knew everything about the city and could guide her anywhere. Though... maybe she was looking for a place nearby? Or perhaps she was going in the same direction he was? He would enjoy the company and the young woman was like him. The residents of Slyiras tended towards a fairer complexion and foreigners, while not excluded, were quickly noted.

Her quick, almost apologetic movements were somewhat amusing, Here, where there was no such thing as personal space. But it did make him think of the his landlandy her sharp eyes, which had at first made him a tad uncomfortable. But Xira certainly didn't mind being put under scrutiny like this, the nobles did just the same and it was something he had to put up with it. It also gave him the chance to do the same.

If she had to be described in a single word, Xira would have used "Beautiful". But it was not in the way the woman in Slyiras were. Hers wasn't the timeless, otherworldly beauty that the konti held either. She was.. an earthy, tangible creature that was all the more alluring. The woman was exotic, her hair was a dark sandalwood and those eyes. They were like ice, or the winter sky. Though she looked tired and travel worn, it did little to mar her features. If anything, it hinted at the long travels and interesting things she might have seen. Travels that Xira wanted to go on, and now might get the chance.

The young woman looked troubled, unsure of herself and on unsteady ground. Interestingly, she clutched a drum to her chest as someone was going to reach out and take it from her. What could she possibly do that required a drum? Was she a musician? A dancer? Both? She certainly had a graceful way of holding herself. He could imagine that she walked to the sound of music that only she could her, but perhaps that was his imagination.

The woman was an intriguing puzzle. "Ah. Well, My name is Xira Hezmek. Where might you be looking to go? Perhaps I can help you find your way." He offered with what he hoped was a charming smile.

[Oriah]

Social customs, winding streets, bizarre infrastructures--these were attributes of large cities and foreign lands that constantly plagued the Benshira. But the warmth in a smile and the sincerity of kind words never changed, no matter how different the giver was nor where her feet itched to take her next. It was as though Yahal was subtly leaving her crumbs, encouraging her to follow a trail of good people and deeds, even when such things sometimes seemed nigh impossible to find.

Which was why, when the man named Xira smiled, full of charm and good will, Oriah readily abandoned her worries and beamed with unbridled cheer. "Yes, I would like that very much!"

She shifted the weight of the drum in her arms, loosening her grip as she grew relaxed. There was immense comfort in seeing a friendly face, especially after all the frustrated and hurried tension of the Syliran crowd. "My name is Oriah, of..."

The Benshira hesitated a moment, unwilling to use the traditional greeting of her people. It seemed like too much of a mouthful, even with her recent modifications, within the city walls. So, instead, she merely finished with, "...Eyktol. It's a blessing to have met you, Xira Hezmek. I've been lost for what feels like eternity. Longer, even!"

She looked up and around at the endless walls and ceilings, feeling not too unlike those chickens she had seen earlier in their little wire cages. Oriah imagined being in an actual room in a tavern would seem much, much smaller, but all the privileges that came with one were enough to sweep such trivial complaints clean from her mind.

"I am looking for The White Swan Inn, where I hope to stay," she explained after a brief pause. "One of guards at the gates said it was a nice place, very good food and rooms, if you have a bit of extra coin to spare. And I am just about ready to give an arm and a leg for a bit of luxury right about now."

Oriah blew a few strands of hair from her face in only slightly exaggerated frustration, then grinned hopefully at Xira. "Would you happen to know where it is?"

[Xira Hezmek]

Goodness, the woman was charming. Her expressions and mannerisms, her quickness to smiling and general upbeat demeanor just seemed so eager and sincere. Xira hadn't known her long, but he liked this Oriah of the Desert. He could not help but smile at her obviously exaggerated frustration, mirroring her grin.

He had nodded as she introduced herself. Following her gaze when she looked about. Few newcomers to the city liked the enclosed, claustrophobic hallways of the city. Which is what Xira assumed she was. He couldn't say what it was like going to a new city, but he could imagine it was daunting though he always dreamed it would be exciting.

With his new acquaintance's company, that cold, chilly day just seemed to get a bit warmer.

"I most certainly do know where that is." He said, his grin deepening in good humor, "In fact, I am going in that direction myself. If you'd like, I could escort you there myself. The city is a busy place and it is easy to get lost." He gave a bit of a bow to Oriah and opened up his arms, one arm out in a gesture of the direction of where he wanted to go and the other meant to guide his new friend along.

He didn't wait for Oriah's response before continuing conversationally, "You know I have no idea how you missed the White Swan, all the taverns are right next to the front gate, just before the entrance to the indoor portions of the city." He was smiling good-naturedly to take the edge off of what he was saying, he did not mean to chastise the woman for getting lost. It was just kind of funny.

[Oriah]

A wave of relief washed over her when Xira affirmed with confidence he did indeed know where the tavern was, and that he could escort her since he was headed there himself. He then indicated the right direction with a bit of a flourish, making Oriah feel all the more glad she had found someone as similar in spirit as he was in appearance.

Then he mentioned how all the taverns had been right next to the main gates, a mirthful smile tugging at his lips, and the Benshira's face burned. "Oh..."

Oriah struggled to come up with a convincing or witty excuse, and failed. She did, however, manage to conjure up a convenient diversion from her incompetence with city streets, which she threw readily at her new friend. "As unfortunate as the mistake may seem for some, I'm glad for it. I now have both a knowledgeable guide and excellent company, and I'm not one to argue against such a favorable trade."

As the pair walked side by side down the hallways, which she eventually learned were called districts, Oriah couldn't help but notice a strange lump in one of Xira's pockets. She resisted her impulse to blurt out an inquiry right then and there. For a time. Until her curiosity got the best of her and she could no longer restrain the question as it forced its way from her lips.

"What is that in your pocket?"

[Xira Hezmek]

He didn't mean to preen under all the attention, but he kind of did. Xira smiled pleasantly in response to his companion's misdirection. He of course made no notice of it. After all, he could not judge her for such a simple and common mistake. "I for one am happy to have this turn of events. Perhaps fate has willed our meeting." He said in reply.

What had seemed like a monumental task of searching for a blue grain of sand in the shores of the Suvan Sea was pushed from the young courier's mind. He would find his patron's son and he would have his Mizas for his trouble. Sure, he had to work for it, but in the company of a kindred of spirit such as Oriah; the problem seemed distant and far away.

The two of them did not wander. Or so Xira had told himself. He took decisive actions and did his best to maintain the front that he knew where he was going. Truth was, he was only fairly certain they were going the right way. Without taking the time to think about each movement he was taking, the turns and paths they took through the alternating busy and not busy hallways began to tangle in his mind. His shortcut was taking longer than it was supposed to.

As they walked Oriah suddenly blurted out her question which took him by surprise. He blushed and looked about himself, hoping nothing embarrassing was showing. Not that there was, he was no passion driven youth. Thank the Windoak. Then he remembered that he had a rather thick parcel in his coat, which caused him to blush again, this time with embarrassment. "A-ah..yeah, that." Xira reached into his pocket and pulled out the package. "This is actually why I am headed towards the taverns." He said with a sheepish smile at the young woman, hoping to save face. "You see, that is my job. I am a courier. People pay me to send letters and packages or find people and give them messages." He paused, knowing that he should tell the truth, "I am actually kind of new at it, but I have been doing pretty well for myself so far."

[Oriah]

Courier. Oriah committed the word to memory, diligently attaching it to Xira's explanation. Letters, packages, deliver. Although her common was at a respectable level now after years spent traveling, there were still many gaps in her education. Ah, well, one less now!

"That sounds like a very exciting job," she noted in earnest, then, seeing the expression on Xira's face, clamped her lips shut against a rush of mirth at his sudden abashedness. He looked so terribly embarrassed as he showed her the parcel. She hadn't the faintest idea why he was blushing, but it was amusing.

"I travel in the name of Yahal, but dancing is what usually earns me good food and a warm place to stay," Oriah responded in kind, once she was sure she had her emotions in check. "I play this drum here as well, but more oft than not my audience pref--"

She cut short at the sight of a bedraggled looking boy begging for money. Thus far the Benshira hadn't seen muh poverty in the city, so the sight was a surprising one. Not thinking too long on the subject, she fished around her pocket and drifted from Xira's side. The Benshira dove forward, pushing past several people, and as she walked by the boy she pressed a gold miza in his hand. "Use it to eat," she whispered, lingering for only a tick.

And then she was hurrying back to Xira again, drawn to him like he was a flicker of fire out on the endless dunes. She took a moment to compose herself, letting out the breath she'd been holding and pushing the hair out of her eyes. It was usually an invitation to be mugged, giving coin to beggars. But this city seemed different, so she had taken a leap of faith.

To her further surprise, a gleam of armor appeared and approached the boy. At first, Oriah feared she had done something wrong. She was quickly proven wrong, however, wen the knight kindly spoke to the boy before leading him to the nearest refuge. An orphanage, the Benshira had picked up amongst the crowded din. A spark of respect kindled in we heart for the knight.

"Sooo," Oriah sighed, looking up at her companion in only slightly-mock terror. "I should probably visit that employment office, huh?"

Her gaze flickered to where the boy had been standing, but the child was long gone. "Perhaps, we shall let you deliver your important package first, since I have nothing but time," she suggested amiably. "Then you can show me where I need to go so I don't get slapped senseless during my stay, and after I can treat you to dinner in my undying gratitude."

Oriah clapped her hands and gave another toothy smile. "What do you say?"

[Xira Hezmek]

Huh. A dancer. Xira was forced to mentally take a step back and reexamine his new friend. Oriah walked along with an grace that made dancing an obvious profession. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. It made perfect sense. She seemed not to notice his embarrassment, or if she did, she had the courtesy to ignore it. He tucked his parcel away into his pocket as Oriah continued her response.

She trailed off after she was explain her performance which caused Xira to give her a sidelong glance as she paused and then followed her gaze to the scene ahead of them. It was rare to see beggars in the street. Even rarer to see them as a child. This one must of been from one of the recent caravans. Children that had no parents were put into the orphanage, for this is what Xira assumed would be the case; what parent would put their child in the "dangerous" streets of the city to beg for coins and food? Knights were honorbound to the protection of its people. Especially the children. So it was natural for the knight to take the child away to find a place where he belonged. Safe and well fed.


The young man cleared his throat as the shock wore off and gave her a hearty smile. "If you wish to stay for any length of time and lawfully be employed, yes, it would be best to visit the employment office. Trega there could even tell you where to go for whatever you want. She is probably the most knowledgeable old woman there is." He nodded in the direction they were going and started forward. "Thankfully the taverns, the employment office and Traveler's row is all towards the main gates. The office is even a part of the gate themselves and doubles as a welcoming place for foreigners to our fair city."

Xira unconsciously adjusted the collar of his shirt, he was pretty sure this was the right way. The main corridor that emptied out into the main gates should be just around the next corner. He switched his attention back to what the woman was saying and blushed, "Goodness m'lady, I could not even imagine you as a beggar" And he couldn't, such a life was unsuited to her he thought. "Your company is a gift of gratitude that is far more than enough and it would be my pleasure to escort you to the Employment Office. I think that may day would not have been as nearly as interesting if I hadn't bumped into you. You are a kind soul Oriah."

He paused a moment. "But of course, dinner with a fair and kind lady like yourself would be wonderful." He gave her a wide smile as they walked. He couldn't help himself, he kept nattering on. Rambling even. He felt he could talk with her for all the bells and chimes of the day "So tell me more about yourself. Where in the Eyktol are you from? I know almost nothing of the place except the legends that Syna loved the place so dearly that her gaze sets it alight causing the sands to burn like fire and that Zulrav rewrites the land like Laviku rewrites the surface of the sea." He asked and expounded earnestly.