Location [Syliras Entrance] The Main Gates

[Kell Northwind]

54th Day of Winter of the year 509AV

The first rays of sun glinted off the morning frost as Stormrunner plodded methodically down the center of the road through the trees. It wasn’t the plod of the lazy or old of course, She just didn’t feel any urgency to get o where she was going and thus felt she should enjoy the brisk winter’s day. This was perfectly acceptable to the man astride her as well. He lounged atop the powerful filly. He could see their destination ahead, but had no desire to get there. Cities were no place to spend any amount of time. They were cramped, they stank, crowded, they stank, they were devoid of natural life, they stank, they were full of laws and rules and guards, and they reeked. Much better to remain here in the woods as long as possible. Kell’s eyes flicked from shadow to shadow between the trees. He didn’t expect to be set upon by bandits this close to Syliras, but then he had never heard a mugging tale that began; “I expected to be set upon…” He knew that he probably looked a tempting target at the moment. A lone rider, his relaxed posture, almost a slump to an untrained eye, didn’t really portray a level of alertness like those stiff backed knights he had seen riding a few leagues back. He chuckled to himself as he swayed gently along with his mounts walk, their backside would surely appreciate it if they learned to ride properly.

Brightness brought him out of his musings. Stormrunner had passed out of the forest into the cleared ground surrounding Syliras’s high walls, affording him his first unobstructed view of the huge city. Kell had broken camp early this morning in the hopes of avoiding any crowds at the gates, but it seemed that his plans were in vain. Already there was a line of various folk waiting to pass inspection and be admitted into the city. At least they appeared to be moving steadily. As they emerged from the wood, Kell quickly did a mental check of his appearance making sure there was nothing that would spook the guards.

He had no armor of any sort to hide the fact that his clothes were well cut. He was obviously not rich, but neither was he poor. It was amazing how having a little coin could make some people think you more respectable. His bow was unstrung and tucked behind the strap securing the quiver to Stormrunner’s Yvas. Most travelers carried bows to hunt, and while Kell’s powerful longbow was obviously more military than the usual, it was clear that he didn’t plan to use it in the near future. With a shiver, Kell threw open his cloak, that up till now had been wrapped tightly to fight the midwinter chill. He instantly regretted the move but felt he would regret it more if the guards felt he should be detained and questioned for attempting to conceal weapons upon entry. There was no way Gale riding on his left hip could pass for anything but. The broadsword was elegantly crafted but was clearly foraged as a weapon, not the “accessory” swords some noble and high end merchants wore. Come to think of it, the dagger sheathed at the small of his back would never pass as a belt knife either. Kell knew that while city guards theoretically understood the need for caring such a heavy arsenal while traveling through the wilderness, they tended to look disfavorably on people who brought it with them back to civilization. The best way to easy their fears about what you might be carrying that could harm the citizens under their protection, was in fact to show them.

Stormrunner slotted herself in line behind a merchant’s wagon and while the guards inspected it idly ran a critical eye over their efforts. They preformed there duties diligently and thoroughly but without the zeal of someone tensed for an attack. Good, that meant all was relatively quite within the walls. Those walls looked the perfect trap if one got caught by a riot or political coupe. At last the guards finished with the contents of the wagons and ran their eyes over him. They hesitated at the weapons but waved him through. As Stormrunner’s shoe clacked against the paving stones Kell realized he was right. It stank.

[Nira Curare]

Nira was travelling with a farmer this time, he had livestock. Usually she walked from village to village, but every now and then someone would not mind her quiet demeanor, and let her ride with them at least until the next village. This time she was picked up two villages past. She held herself with the poise of nobility and had the hood of her cloak up the whole trip, but that didn't stop the farmer from asking questions. If she answered at all, they were one word answers. She was not trying to be rude, but she was pretty sure her trip would be cut short if he saw her fangs.

She was not paying much attention, so she did not see the gates of Syliras until they were rather close. It was the biggest city she'd ever seen and that included Kalinor. The gates them selves were impressive. After all those months of travelling, Nira decided there that she was going to stay awhile. A few minutes later they arrived at the gates. Nira stepped down from the wagon and pulled her hood back. The farmer had not seen her face yet, and studied it just as the guards did, It looked at though she came from the ice itself, at least thats what her coloring looked like. The farmer looked a little surprised, but the guards simply asked what her business was Syliras.

"I suppose I don't have any, but I think I'll be staying for some time, do you know where I could find simple housing?" Nira said with her head down a little so they wouldn't see her fangs. They may let her kind in if they knew she was a Symenestra, but they would keep an eye out for someone like her. The guards smiled at her and gave her directions to a small one room cottage. Nira did not smile as she pulled the hood of her cloak back up. As they turned to inspect the farmer she came with, Nira walked through the massive gates and took her first steps into Syliras.

[Lestin]

-

[Mella]

Season of Winter, Day 63, 509 AV

Her presence was noted immediately. No, not by the humans who were so laughably oblivious of their surroundings, but the animals. They were smarter trusting their instincts more than their sight. Humans saw only what they wanted to notice. All they observed was a young woman traveling alone, which was perhaps a bit suspicious but overall a harmless thing. The animals truly knew what was walking among them, and they began their loud braying while the horses tossed their heads. They knew that a predator was nearby and no amount of disguise would trick them. For she only looked human, underneath her clever guise was the soul of wild cat—a black panther.

She could smell their fear, taste it on her lips, reminding her of the gloriousness of the hunt. Stalking your prey as you blended into the shadows. The delicious anticipation curling inside of your soul as you prepared to strike. Her mouth watered just at the thought, but she shook her head slightly. It would do no good if she were to suddenly give in to her instincts and attack one of the animals. Sighing, she tugged her dark green cloak’s hood lower over her face trying to hide her feral appearance for her turn to enter the gate was coming.

Syliras was known for its tolerance of all races including Kelvics, but you could never be too careful especially one who was bond-less like her. You never knew whether a fellow traveler was a slave dealer or not, and so must deal extreme caution with every situation presented to you.

Mella’s nostrils flared as she viewed the oppressive fortress before her. It was boxed in, and strong—a stone cage. One like her who was used to fresh air and open spaces to escape if necessary was repulsed by the idea of entering the structure. How she was ever going to be able to live in the confines of this city was beyond her, but she had to do so. It was her first stop on her journey to find her bond-mate and if she passed this city up there was no telling who she would miss. Scowling, Mella steeled motivation to continue onward.

The guard checking over travelers stopped her with a wave of his hand. Mella nervously tugged her hood lower bowing her head to keep her face in shadow.

“Name?” The guard asked brusquely. This was the end of his shift and he was tired just wanting to go relax and eat at one of the local taverns. He hadn’t realized signing up as law enforcement would mean doing routine customs check and the guard was slightly disgruntled at the fact. He had been hoping for a more heroic job and all he wanted to do was just finish inspecting the line of people and then go home.

“Mella.”

“Last?” The guard inquired not even bothering to look up from the clipboard before him.

Mella scowled lowering her head even further hiding the flash of sharpened canines that were revealed, “Don’t have one.”

At this, the guard looked up and expected the young woman more closely. She was taller than the average woman, thin, and pale-skinned. Wisps of dark hair escaped from the hood of her cloak, but not much else was discernable. “Please lower your hood miss, so that I may see if any disease is apparent.”

Mella felt a slight wave of panic wash over her, but quickly pushed it aside. “I keep my hood up sir so as to spare my fellow travelers the pain of viewing my disfigurement. I have severe burns from a childhood accident, and if it would please you sir, I’d rather not show them.” The lie fell from her lips easily the words sounding sweet as honey. The guard however blanched. For all his bravo, he was still young and had no need or want to see a mutilation or embarrass the lady by asking to see it. So nodding, the guard moved on to the next mark on his list. “Purpose?”

“I am looking for someone.” Mella responded her answer being more or less the truth.

“You’ll most likely find them at Traveler’s Row…” the guard trailed off as Mella glided through the gate nodding her thanks. So, it began…

[Rane]

Timestamp: Day 23 of Winter, 509 AV

A small statue of a child was leaned up a against a tree, almost as if a real kid had dropped the toy when he or she entered Syliras. The statue was made from white clay, and stood a mere 7 inches tall. But, it wasn't just a toy. It, or rather he was a living, breathing, and currently very tired being. The statue, named Rane, had been traveling (or has he called it, exploring) for a while since he had last been to a city of village. This is how Rane's life had been for about three months so far, three months since he had left home and he had been exploring every since. Now he found himself at Syliras, and was ready for another rest.

Life was great when Rane left his home... At first. Now it's gotten dull for him. It's amazing how repetitive exploring forests can be. Just a lot of tree's, and wolves... Rane doesn't like wolves any more. No, wolves aren't nice to Rane. So, now he's bored of forests and Rane likes being bored less than he likes wolves. So, he decided to try something new, and if it was not to his liking, Rane would just move on again. He decided to try city-life, maybe there was more adventure than he thought there would be. If not he may just cook up a little something of his own before leaving.

On that note the little white child straightened himself from his position against a tree, and headed towards the gate. He wasn't sure if these guards were mean, and would demand a tribute of money before letting him enter, so Rane followed behind the leg of a human entering. He was unnoticed on his way in, and stopped once past the gate to admire his new, temporary, home.

[Aneira Haimati]

Season of Winter, Day 21, 509 AV

The tinkling of bells had lingered in their wake for the entire journey. Aneira slid her fingers through her horse's mane, where silver bells were intertwined, setting the cadence of their travels.

It was such a shame to be without music; without some more lively way to keep time aside from measuring the sun and the shadows. And so now, as in most waking moments they had spent riding down from Avanthal, Aneira and her father exchanged songs to the rhythm of the bells: he atop his mare, and she hers.

"Spirits, bring no harm;
Or fly away to silence..."

Her voice carried to the gates along with the breeze of dusk. Certainly her Vani song, if not the sound of the bells, would protect them that much farther. Both had done so until now; their journey had been safe and steady, and here they were covering the last lengths to the gates of Syliras. Finally.

Aneira expressed as much. "It's here," she said, glancing aside to her father. He sat, tall and darkly-bearded, just a few hands higher than she.

"It has been here all along, Ani," he laughed. "We're the ones who are finally here."

As he spoke, a large, wolfish-looking dog caught up to them, nipping playfully at the horses' hooves. The horses danced, agitated, in turn.

"Nanuq!" Aneira scolded the dog, reaching down to yank its white tail. It raced ahead of them, encircling the guards that stood ahead, flanking the city gates.

Aneira's father dismounted to deal with the guards' inquiries. She, on the other hand, strained against the horse's back, stretching tall -- or as tall as such a small woman could -- in attempt to peer over the gates. But no such luck.

She wasn't as dazzled as she had expected to be -- after all, she had seen much, very much, on the long ride down; and these sights overshadowed her first glance at Syliras. Still, the anticipation lit her eyes. It was everything her father had described it would be: the quiet expanse of cool, blue sea, and the arms of lush green nestled around it. She pressed her hand against cool, smooth stone, and followed it upward with her eyes, to where the gates towered.

As the iron-clad doors swung open, Aneira watched her white-furred pup lope inside, followed by her father.

After a moment, she nudged her horse forth, with a resounding jingle. Aneira entered Syliras.

[Laeraix Cerys]

65, Winter of 509 AV
Laeraix walked up to the gate of Syliras. She quickly took note of the guards that flanked the gate. They seemed to be well trained, and went through a systematic check for each person that passed. She watched the choreographed routine for awhile before getting bored. Her gaze soon travelled to those around her and what they were here for. A few merchants were trying to sell their wares before they reached the gate. They tried to reel her in with promises of what their particular wares could do for her. She could hardly believe that a coat could bring her wealth and good fortune, so she ignored them as well.
From her position in the line she could make out a few details of the city streets. Children ran across the streets chasing a neighbourhood dog, which was chasing a stray cat. She chuckled at the scene, but soon the children disappeared from view. Archers stood far above her and wielded well oiled longbows, all poised to shoot anyone that dared cause a scene at the gate. She shivered. Bows scared her more than any sword ever could, for a well placed arrow could down her easily if she was in the sky.
It occurred to her that she could have flown into the city and avoided this whole mess, but it seemed to be too late now. She smiled at the guard as she passed through the archway and took her first step into Syliras.

[Conor]

65, Winter of 509 AV

Each morning, the paved road leading towards the great gates of Syliras was transformed into a dirt road. Travelers hailing from every corner of the known world polluted the road with their mud caked boots. They were all waiting for admission, so that they could finally enter the city and search an inn or a relative. Conor’s horse neighed and stamped on the ground. The temperament full warhorse wasn’t used to standing still, and it was eager to start galloping again. A few commoners gave Conor an angry stare, and one of them scolded at them. All Conor could do was laugh; the people in Syliras were – if the rumors were true – the most civilized citizens of Mizahar, and yet they had no regard what so ever for politeness. Conor could’ve easily gone berserk, like a lot of Talderans would do, but he just saw the comical aspect in it.

What was worse than both the mud and the rude Sylirans was the noise. Hundreds of men conversing with one another, barking dogs and neighing mules, they all made their typical sounds, and they all contributed to the incredible loud noise. At first, Conor was afraid that it would overwhelm him, and that it would render him deaf, but after a while, his ears grew accustomed to it. The once so loud noises now became ambient sounds. Finally, Conor reached the huge gates. He couldn’t help but stare at the massive construction, until the guard sighed; “Sir, you are blocking the road…” The knight was obviously bored with his guard duties. Conor wanted to advance inside, but the man stopped him.

“What business does a well-armed fellow like you have here?” Of course, Conor knew that he would have to lie. What guard would let a runaway rogue like him pass through the gates of the city he swore to protect? Conor tried to put all his confidence in the following words: “I’m visiting a relative!” The guard wasn’t stupid, but apparently, he seemed to believe it partially. “Why do you carry all those weapons?” Or wait – maybe he was stupid. Why did a person carry weapons when travelling. “I had to protect myself from bandits, duh!” Conor sneered.

The guard paused for a while, not sure if he was insulted or not. Eventually his nutshell brain grasped the concept of carrying arms, and he let Conor pass. Finally, Conor sighed. If everyone in this city was going to be such a retard, he might as well skip this city and head out to another one… There were plenty of beautiful locations…

[Toshi]

Time Stamp: 1st of the Day, winter of 509 A.V.

The gates of Slyiras were unlike anything he had ever seen and he could say the same of the denizens lined up at the gates. Prior to making this trip, he had never ventured beyond the familiar wildlands of Taldera. Here the climate was much warmer, the air carried unfamiliar scents and the sky was empty. There would be no Morwen's Light hovering above to illuminate the night sky, instead tongues of flame dotted the entire landscape of stone and structure.

"First time in Syliras?" the guard was cordial and pretty enough under all that armor that Toshi had to smile at her. "I was like that too, it was a few years back, the sheer size of the city gets to you but... you'll get used to the number of people soon enough."

"Yeah... I haven't traveled, prior to this." the admission was embarrassing but there was a first time for everything.

The guardsman smiled. "At least you don't look as nervous as I was back then, well, lets get down to business. You're visiting Syliras because?"

"My grandfather asked me to deliver a message to a dear friend. He's too old to make the journey so here I am." he lied.

"Everything appears to be fine but..." the female guardsman rubbed her chin and brought her torch closer to Toshi. "You'll have to take of your shirt."

Toshi blinked. For a moment he doubted his ears. Was he so tired that he hadn't heard her correctly? Or was it just that his imagination and passion getting the better of him. "Pardon?"

"Its procedure, the last person who tried to get in at the dead of night had boils all over him. Take off your shirt or I'm going to do it for you." the lady guard was tapping her feet on the ground, the impatient look on her face told him that if he refused to obey he was probably going to be barred entrance.

Toshi reluctantly complied. He felt a little embarrassed but he casually pulled the shirt over his torso revealing an exceptionally well developed frame for someone who appeared to be barely a man.

"Nice." the voice as barely audible but Toshi could've sworn he heard her.

"Excuse me?" he ejaculated, his face incredulous. Was the girl really checking him out? He was subject to a fair bit of vanity but he didn't know if the girl was just teasing.

"Everything appears to be in order," once more the woman appeared to be all business but Toshi could no longer relax. "You do have a place to stay don't you?"

"No.. Not really."

"Traveler's row, they're the cheapest around... of course I do know a few other places."

"I think I'll be satisfied with Traveler's row." Toshi murmured as he quickly slipped the thin piece of tunic over his chest. He still had more important things to do, fooling around could wait.

"If you change your mind just come back here, I'm still due for another few hours work."

[Pua]

56th Day of Winter, 509 AV

Pua was shivering uncontrollably despite the cloak he held tightly around himself. When he had left Taloba on this journey, back in late spring, he had been reasonable certain that it would be a quick trip, and that he would be back home in time for the Day of the Dead festival. By the time late fall had rolled around, bringing its chill winds, he had begun questioning the worth of this expedition. Now deep into winter Pua wished he hadn’t left the steaming jungles at all.

It was too late to turn back of course, Pua would never hear the end of it if he returned empty handed after making such a fuss about seeking out this man. Two falls ago, one of Rahi of the Tiger Eyed’s spies had brought back word that there was an inventor or magician, the spy wasn’t sure which, in the great city of Syliras that could make all kinds of odd contraptions. The spy had even brought back a clock as proof. Pua had been struggling for almost two years to find a way to overcome the difficulties of reloading his crossbows in combat. One look at the insides of the clock and he knew that this man could solve his problems.

What Pua hadn’t been prepared for was how long the trip had ended up taking. Where he had originally intended to catch rides in wagons or rent a horse, he was instead forced to walk. The immediate and fierce hostile reactions to from those he encountered had at first taken him aback, but now just irritated him. The people, at least those tat recognized his heritage, treated him as nothing short of a monster! After the sixth time he had been run off by a mob, Pua had taken to avoiding people and settlements. But sooner rather than later Pua would be left with no choice in the matter. Looming ahead was the great gates of Syliras.

Shivering, head bent against the biting wind, the huddled gray mass that was Pua trudged on toward the gates through the snow. Snow! Pua had of course heard the tales of snow, but life in the ever present heat of Falyndar had naturally induced skepticism at such a concept. Pua was a believer now though. This frozen water that fell from the sky and blanketed the ground was perhaps the worst part of the entire journey. Pua didn’t mind being wet, had in fact been at least damp for most of his life, but this snow worked its way into his boots when he walked, a most uncomfortable feeling. He hadn’t been able to feel his toes in weeks.

The gates were upon him now. Here in their shadow, they were even more impressive than on the road leading to them. Pua hoped he would be allowed in, getting past the formidable obstacle without permission might just prove to be impossible. The few people clustered around the gate eyed him warily as he stumbled up. Though the cloak clutched in a white knuckled grip around him did a remarkably good job of hiding his Myrian blood, it did have the unfortunate drawback of making him appear a beggar. Well there was nothing for it, Pua refused to remove the cloak until he was sitting comfortable on a fire and not a moment before.

“G-g-good d-day c-captain,” Pua greeted the man who seemed to be in charge of the guards. His own experience with military matters told Pua that the man probably wasn’t a captain, maybe a sergeant, but guards always liked it when you assumed they were more important than they really are. “How g-g-goes your d-duty?”

“Sergeant,” the guard grunted in response, “Guard Sergeant Miller.” Pua sighed inwardly; of course he would get the tight laced one. “Sir can I ask you to please remove your cloak?”

“I w-w-would r-rather not,” Pua gave the guard his best grin, though the effect was somewhat ruined as a particularly strong gust brought about another bout of shivering. “I a-assure you s-sir that I mean n-no t-trouble in your city. I j-just was not p-p-prepared for your w-winters. I’m l-looking for an inventor or maybe he’s a m-m-magician. He make c-c-contraptions. I w-was h-hoping to g-get him to make s-s-something for me.”

“You must mean the Mechanical Marvels.” The guard offered. “Strange place, never been there myself. Third Tier of the Castle.” Miller gave Pua one last look, “Alright get going, but if you cause any trouble I’ll flay you myself”

“T-thank you S-sergeant,” Pua stammered as he hustled through the gates.