59th of Winter, 514 AV
14th Bell
Anxiety. That was the first word that would've come to the Myrian's mind if one were to ask her to describe her current station. It was in her deliberate steps, evident in the slightest dilation of that dark pool that rested in the center of her eyes. In came with that quickened pace of her heart and the adrenal release in her veins. She wasn't the only one filled with apprehension. Upon entering the shadow cast by the Sun's Refuge's tall, looming walls, the gate guards visibly stiffened beneath their heavy armor. What else could anyone expect? Sunberth natives didn't take too kindly to outsiders. That seemed to be the rule of thumb throughout the city. Myrians, however, always tended to be a whole different story.
Savages. Cannibals. Guiltless murderers. Mizahar's people had no trouble coming up with more than a few choice words to describe her people. Though some of their reputation was merited, fact and fiction was hardly distinguishable. Once Kaie crossed the Suvan Sea, it had been strikingly obvious that stories associated with the savages of Falyndar fueled some of the most fearsome of childhood nightmares. By the wary turn of the gate guards' helms, those long-forgotten tales still lingered. One of the men approached her before she could reach the gates with his hand on his longsword.
"Halt! That's close enough," He thundered in a voice slightly muffled by the helmet. Chainmail clinked together as he came to a stiff stop. The Myrian woman followed suit. Morwen's breath ruffled the ends of her winter fur cloak. "State your business, woman." Kaie made a point to keep her hands away from the hilt of her gladius and the kukri harness upon her back. Tongue flicked outward to line the edge of her bottom lip momentarily. She cleared her throat."I've come to pay your Proving Grounds a visit," came her voice, steady and direct in nature. Amber eyes stared into the shadowy gaps in the helm where his eyes laid.
"I don't think so and you're not one of us anyhow. Begone."
"That may be true but my coin's just as good as anyone else's, and by the looks of it, your gang could use every last Miza they can get their hands on. A war with the Daggerhand doesn't pay for itself now does it?" The man's armored fists clenched at that, and for a moment he turned back toward his companions who eyed him silently. He turned back with a chuckle.
"And how, pray tell, does a woman of your kind find herself in a position to afford our services?" The gate guards behind him quickly joined in with muffled laughter. The Myrian's lips turned upward but the grin was far from amicable. Her bladed boots crunched against the snow covered earth in slow steps that made the guard's grip on his sword more firm. He gave it a tug, loosening it in its sheath like a warning. Kaie stopped so closely that the cold, mist exhale of a laugh drifted against his helm. "Why don't you escort me to your training grounds yourself? While we're there you can ask the twins in command there, who share half of my kind's blood, the same question. Now that I think about it...don't they outrank you?"
The man growled and let out a muffled flurry of curses to himself after a period of silence before turning on his heels. He gave a half-hearted gesture to his comrades and made his way toward the gates. Two other men in armor approached her in haste. She suppressed a growl as they went to work, yanking up her sleeves to inspect her wrists for tell-tale markings of gang affiliation.
"What've you got on ya?" one gruff voice interrogated as he gestured for her to extend her arms out.
"Gladius on the hip. Pair of kukri harnessed to my back." The pair patted her down and confirmed her statement, finishing up with a final nod of approval to their acting leader. The first gate guard began to grumble again before he lifted his visor and turned toward the hold. "Open the gates!" And with that there came the groan of a winch and the raising of the doors. Armored Dragoons on the other side beckoned her in before the gates fell with a thud behind her.
"What's your business here, Myrian?" The nearest one asked without much interest in his voice. His visor was lifted to reveal muddy brown eyes and a face framed with thick beard.
"Proving Grounds." He gave her a nod and gestured with his gauntlet-clad hand in the direction of the establishment. She followed his direction down the well-manned sliver of Sun's Birth territory. After some time she heard the all too familiar sounds of ensuing combat of a less lethal sort. A genuine smile threatened to expose itself upon her tanned face when she'd proceeded through the arena to the yard. Dragoons and recruits alike were at work adjusting the placement of training dummies and targets. Standing in the center of it was a woman Kaie could not ignore. She was an imposing sort of individual to say the least. Brown hair was cropped shorter than any Myrian would dare, skill paler too. However, it was her very demeanor that gave her roots away. There was a firmness to her tone, a fierceness when her eyes shifted from one trainee to another. Certainty came when she found herself in their stare. More so when the woman made a point to approach her with an expression not necessarily friendly.
Well. It's as close as I'm going to get to the real thing, isn't it?
14th Bell
Anxiety. That was the first word that would've come to the Myrian's mind if one were to ask her to describe her current station. It was in her deliberate steps, evident in the slightest dilation of that dark pool that rested in the center of her eyes. In came with that quickened pace of her heart and the adrenal release in her veins. She wasn't the only one filled with apprehension. Upon entering the shadow cast by the Sun's Refuge's tall, looming walls, the gate guards visibly stiffened beneath their heavy armor. What else could anyone expect? Sunberth natives didn't take too kindly to outsiders. That seemed to be the rule of thumb throughout the city. Myrians, however, always tended to be a whole different story.
Savages. Cannibals. Guiltless murderers. Mizahar's people had no trouble coming up with more than a few choice words to describe her people. Though some of their reputation was merited, fact and fiction was hardly distinguishable. Once Kaie crossed the Suvan Sea, it had been strikingly obvious that stories associated with the savages of Falyndar fueled some of the most fearsome of childhood nightmares. By the wary turn of the gate guards' helms, those long-forgotten tales still lingered. One of the men approached her before she could reach the gates with his hand on his longsword.
"Halt! That's close enough," He thundered in a voice slightly muffled by the helmet. Chainmail clinked together as he came to a stiff stop. The Myrian woman followed suit. Morwen's breath ruffled the ends of her winter fur cloak. "State your business, woman." Kaie made a point to keep her hands away from the hilt of her gladius and the kukri harness upon her back. Tongue flicked outward to line the edge of her bottom lip momentarily. She cleared her throat."I've come to pay your Proving Grounds a visit," came her voice, steady and direct in nature. Amber eyes stared into the shadowy gaps in the helm where his eyes laid.
"I don't think so and you're not one of us anyhow. Begone."
"That may be true but my coin's just as good as anyone else's, and by the looks of it, your gang could use every last Miza they can get their hands on. A war with the Daggerhand doesn't pay for itself now does it?" The man's armored fists clenched at that, and for a moment he turned back toward his companions who eyed him silently. He turned back with a chuckle.
"And how, pray tell, does a woman of your kind find herself in a position to afford our services?" The gate guards behind him quickly joined in with muffled laughter. The Myrian's lips turned upward but the grin was far from amicable. Her bladed boots crunched against the snow covered earth in slow steps that made the guard's grip on his sword more firm. He gave it a tug, loosening it in its sheath like a warning. Kaie stopped so closely that the cold, mist exhale of a laugh drifted against his helm. "Why don't you escort me to your training grounds yourself? While we're there you can ask the twins in command there, who share half of my kind's blood, the same question. Now that I think about it...don't they outrank you?"
The man growled and let out a muffled flurry of curses to himself after a period of silence before turning on his heels. He gave a half-hearted gesture to his comrades and made his way toward the gates. Two other men in armor approached her in haste. She suppressed a growl as they went to work, yanking up her sleeves to inspect her wrists for tell-tale markings of gang affiliation.
"What've you got on ya?" one gruff voice interrogated as he gestured for her to extend her arms out.
"Gladius on the hip. Pair of kukri harnessed to my back." The pair patted her down and confirmed her statement, finishing up with a final nod of approval to their acting leader. The first gate guard began to grumble again before he lifted his visor and turned toward the hold. "Open the gates!" And with that there came the groan of a winch and the raising of the doors. Armored Dragoons on the other side beckoned her in before the gates fell with a thud behind her.
"What's your business here, Myrian?" The nearest one asked without much interest in his voice. His visor was lifted to reveal muddy brown eyes and a face framed with thick beard.
"Proving Grounds." He gave her a nod and gestured with his gauntlet-clad hand in the direction of the establishment. She followed his direction down the well-manned sliver of Sun's Birth territory. After some time she heard the all too familiar sounds of ensuing combat of a less lethal sort. A genuine smile threatened to expose itself upon her tanned face when she'd proceeded through the arena to the yard. Dragoons and recruits alike were at work adjusting the placement of training dummies and targets. Standing in the center of it was a woman Kaie could not ignore. She was an imposing sort of individual to say the least. Brown hair was cropped shorter than any Myrian would dare, skill paler too. However, it was her very demeanor that gave her roots away. There was a firmness to her tone, a fierceness when her eyes shifted from one trainee to another. Certainty came when she found herself in their stare. More so when the woman made a point to approach her with an expression not necessarily friendly.
Well. It's as close as I'm going to get to the real thing, isn't it?
