Location [Syliras Entrance] The Main Gates

[Sikuri Snowsong]

78th Day of Spring, 510 AV

There is something magnificent to be said about the life of a traveler. Drifting in and out of grandiose cities and quiet hamlets alike with nary a word parted from their lips as the citizenry look on with all due curiosity; but as soon as their their muffled whispers and ocular surveys begin to question who this strange wanderer is, the mysterious figure slips away into the night, forgotten just as quickly as he'd arrived. 'Tis a lifestyle often romanticized in stories, typically chronicling grand adventures and perilous journeys of an epic nature where the protagonists and their companions make everything seem so simple through their own innate skill and ingenuity. Every battle is a clash of titans. Every romance a tear-wrenching sonnet of distilled emotion. Every meal a feast fit for a king.

It's a shame none of these things were factual, a fact Sikuri had long since come to terms with since his departure from Avanthal during the early Fall. The journey from his homeland had been long and arduous; more-so the former than the latter. Even now, as Sikuri sauntered wearily towards the cusp of his lengthy trek and strove to fight off the now all-too-familiar hunger pangs in his gullet, the doldrums of his sojourn from Nyek had already began to weave their way into Sikuri’s very existence. But even with all of these detracting factors; despite all of his trials and hardships over the last two seasons, there was one particularly distasteful cultural shift the young Vantha had both expected and yet still managed to catch him by surprise…

“Why? Why must it be so warm?” bemoaned the Talderan out-loud in his native tongue, back hunched forward from the strain of carrying his pack as a bead of sweat streaked its way down his dark-skinned face.

Ah, yes; the unusually warm weather. How anyone could exist comfortably in this… this… sweltering sauna was beyond Sikuri’s reckoning! Even after relinquishing his traditional garb in favor of a more regionally befitting wardrobe of low-cut brown boots, a pair of knee-length beige breeches, and a simple white linen shirt; the gentle Sylirian breeze did little to stave off the uncommon warmth the weary wanderer felt, an unfortunate side-effect of being Marked by the Queen of Snow.

All complaints aside, the trip hadn’t been all that bad. And now, it would seem at long last that all of his meandering would come to an end as the road Sikuri had been treading alone for so long finally came to a head. There in the distance it stood, like some sort of golden pillar of civilization, glowing with an intensity that nearly rivaled Morwen’s Lights themselves as the mid-day sun gleamed down upon its architectural splendor, almost blinding Sikuri with both its beauty and strangeness as he lifted his dreary, bagged eyes to gaze onwards in silent awe.

There stood Syliras, capital of Sylira. And what a sight it was.

Straightening up with a heaved sigh against the weight of his gear and brushing a wayward lock of hair from his muted sunflower eyes, a lightly beleaguered smile crept its way across the Vantha's besmirched face. To have made it so far from his home was in and of itself a fairly impressive -- albeit dangerous -- accomplishment in and of itself, and if it weren't for the fact Sikuri was on the brink of starvation and exhaustion, he might have taken the time to truly appreciate the situation; maybe even composing a more artistic tale about his pugnacious trip despite acclimate trials galore beyond those dedicated within his stalwartly resilient journal.

Right now, however, all Sikuri wanted was a hot meal. Having gone nearly eight days without so much as a crumb had left the soul-searching journeyman more than a bit peckish.

With renewed vim and vigor at the prospect of food and shelter against the elements, Sikuri once more returned to the move, the mistakenly melodic pitter-patter of leather against the well-tread road in his ears the only companion to accompany him as he redoubled his efforts to reach his intended destination. Closer and closer he grew, distinct figures in the distance becoming more and more detailed: two men stood astride the gateway into that most marvelous of Sylirian cities, the tell-tale gleam of weaponry against the highborn sun plainly illuminated as what could only be a deterrent for those of foolish inclination. Atop the bulwark, eyes peered down at the lone passer-by, the feathered ends of arrows protruding from quivers slung across their shoulders in preparation of the worst.

A silent cringe and pursed lips takes the place of that once alleviated smile of Sikuri's, a knot firmly lodged deep in his throat as he approached the armed soldiers.

"Halt, stranger!" demanded one of the guardsmen in Common, hand outstretched with an air of command as his compatriot moved in tandem with his fellow to stop Sikuri in his tracks. "State your business."

"Hello." replied the enervated Vantha in heavily-accented Common, a roar from his stomach and a lone bead of sweat trailing down his dark brow as he gave his best smile; the tightness in his throat growing ever so slightly as memories of his arrival in Nyek reminded him of the caution necessary in this new, strange world he'd found himself in. "My name is Sikuri. I have traveled far to reach your capital, sir, in the hopes of taking up... uh... what is the word..." the Talderan begins to explain, only to stumble in his modest Common vocabulary...

"Residency!" he finally blurts, jerking his head back from the ground to meet the guard's own again as the word leaps into his mind. "In taking up residency, as well as finding something to eat."

After a solemn survey, the lead gatekeeper gives the odd-looking foreigner a harsh squint, followed by a particularly morose head gib towards his comrade-in-arms.

"Very well." retorted the leader of the armed duo, "If food and lodging are what you seek, stranger, then follow the road towards Stormhold Castle and look for the sign to The White Swan Inn. You cannot miss it."

"Enjoy your stay in Syliras." interjected the second man, waving admittance into the city proper as he stepped aside from his.

"Thank you, sirs." Sikuri replied, a gleeful albeit weary bow given in turn for the clemency granted him.

Finally, he had made it. With one sore foot in front of the other against the paved cobblestone, the self-exiled pilgrim stepped forward into his new world, eager to explore the other spectrum of his life; to discover what he had missed out on that his own people could not impart to him...

A chance to discover whom he truly was. His only chance.

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

Kamrynn kicked a rock as he crossed the threshold of the mighty gate of Sylirias. Time wasn't passing quickly enough! There wasn't much too do outside the city, and even less inside, at least as far as he was concerned, nothing could occupy his attention today. Things were all about to change tomorrow.

Tomorrow he started up again as a squire for the Syliran knights, he'd get assigned to a knight mentor and be back to training, back to honor and glory... The thought made him crack a smile. He'd had an empty feeling in his chest since he was forced to quit the order three years back, and so many things happened, his mother, his injuries... All that was behind him, now there was nothing holding him back.

He nodded to the familiar faces in the guard as they waved him through. He couldn't wait to be one of them, even a job as menial as guard for the gates seemed exciting to him, as long as he was a knight, that's all that mattered.

Grinning now, the boy swung an imaginary sword through the air, fighting hordes of Sylirias' enemies. He'd be the best knight there ever was, he'd right wrongs, save damsels, punish evil and spread the glory of Sylirias across the edges of the world. That was all there was to it.

Things were so simple in the mind of a young boy.

[Saiph]

79th day of Spring, 510 AV

There was nothing out of the ordinary about a human female that approached the gates of the city on a horse. There would surely be many more humans in this city, it would not be too difficult to blend in, and in her human form, she was no extrodinary sight. Somewhat pretty, she supposed, but a far cry from someone who could turn heads. To enter fairly easily, and to simply slip past as she took her leave. For this, Saiph praised the idea to enter the city by day, when she would most likely attract the least attention, with the heightened amount of activity that went on during the daylight hours. Hooves hardly clicked upon the flat, well trodden earth as both rider and horse moved closer. Fortified walls rose up above her, and bright, intelligent eyes flicker as she eyes them. A magnificent structure in itself, to eyes that still were not completely accustomed to this land, how strange it was. Framed against the sky, it stood proud, almost like a symbol of strength.

She dismounted the horse that carries her, as it snorts at the sight of the guards, and began leading the creature towards the gates, where two guards stand. The guards seemed to have spotted them, though neither gave any indication, and waited until she and the horse had drawn near before speaking.

"Halt!" The taller of the two commanded in an authoritative manner, extending his hand to gesture for Saiph to stop. The human did as she was told immediately. "What is your business here? The usual question, she susptected, wondering if they ever were bored at their post, monitering those who entered the city.

"My name is Saiph, I am merely passing through, and do not intend to stay long." She did not smile, but simply stated the facts, uncharacteriscally bland. To an outside observer, she must have appeared very staid indeed.

The guard took a long look at her, though admittedly, there was no reason to keep her from the city, if she had been a Zith, perhaps, but...a human tended to be safe enough. He nodded towards her. "Go ahead, then, and don't cause any trouble, you hear?"

"Thank you, sir," The woman bowed slightly, almost awkwardly, then led her mount past the gates.

"Enjoy your stay." The second guard put in monotonously as she entered the city.

[Valimus Willow]

50th of Spring
The walls of Syliras dominating the horizon layed out before him, Valimus drew his cloak around tighter his slender form and proceeded down the road, carefully walking around the other newcomers to the large city. His hood was pulled up around his head loosely, some strands of his cob-web hair falling out of the hood at random angles.

The grey sky above him was one that dampened spirits and moods, but Valimus paid no heed. He had no rising spirits or important tasks to be done this day. Instead, there was a simple cold machination in his movements, of necessity and purpose. Rain, clouds, burning sun, he percieved them all indifferently, though he did prefer the days when the sunlight was barred from shining down upon him. Symenestra didn't like the light much, so today was in an ideal condition.

Valimus bowed his head as he approached the massive gates of the city, hoping that the guard would not pay too much attention to him. He knew that they interviewed each prospective visitor, but if they regarded him as a simple scholar or philospher, they wouldn't put the city on alert for him. His kind was not accepted by the other races for their breeding habits, and they wouldn't make any distinction between Valimus and fertile Symenestra.

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

"Hello there!" Kamrynn greeted the hooded stranger approaching the gates warmly. "Welcome to Stormcastle, the fortress city of peace and the heart of Syliras!"

The stranger didn't seem impressed, and didn't offer a response. This wasn't anything new, most of the people entering Syliras weren't overzealous to be poked and prodded by the guard, and the cloaked stranger ahead of him with downcast face was sure to be chief among their number. Be that as it may, everyone coming into the city had to be interviewed, so that is what Kamrynn would do.

"Traveller," He began, gesturing for the stranger to approach a small wooden writing table. "There's a few questions I'll need you to answer before entrance to the city..." Kamrynn looked down at a list.

"I'll need your name, your country of birth and where you're from, your, uh" He paused awkwardly to look the stranger over, but didn't find what he was looking for so he continued with his question. "...Your race, the length of your stay, and your intended business in Syliras."

He looked up and nodded, indicating that he was finished, and waited for the man's response.

[Valimus Willow]

Syliran Knights. A danger to one who meant harm, a pest to those who did not. In this case, Valimus was certainly a danger, but this child of a knight didn't pose any threat. He was definitely a pest though. Valimus adopted a tight sort of smile, one where the lips just crinkle up at the edges to show a forced sense of acceptance, a smile that conveyed his irritation easily.

"Surely, my friend..." Valimus began in a light voice, speaking his Common with a soft, accentless voice. "Surely, you don't need this in written format." He didn't want any record of his stay in Syliras just to be safe, and giving his false story to the knight would be for the best, considering he seemed the type to forget to tie his shoes in the morning if he wasn't reminded.

Without waiting for the young man's response, Valimus started to speak again. "My name is Valter, from Kalea. I'm just a traveller, and the gods know how long I will stay here." Valimus tried as hard as he could to make this sound pleasant and comforting, but his annoyance made him sound like a bored gentleman tired of dealing with such men. It worked just as well, but it wasn't going to gain this man's trust.

Inwardly, he was already thinking of what lay within Syliras. Foods... opportunites... women. Oh yes, the women that Valimus intended to bed. He could already picture them at his bed-side, begging for him to take them. I'm useless anyway, why not take pleasure for myself?

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

"Mr. Valter of Kalea," Kamrynn said after Valimus had finished, penning a few things on a paper, before dropping the ink pen on the table. It rolled unnoticed to the ground.

"Oh, don't worry," He gestured to the paper. "This is just a formality. I think it goes up on a bunch of dusty old shelves and gets forgotten almost immediately."

With his questioning completed, Kamrynn was supposed to perform, as his captain put it, "A visual surveillance of the traveler to assess possible threats and the need for further interrogation."

Kamrynn looked up at the Valimus, who was smiling impatiently. Check. In Kamrynn's eyes, he was a harmless young nobleman, not a fox at the door to the chicken coop.

"Well Mr. Valter, that just about wraps things up, unless you have any questions or need directions: enjoy your stay, stay safe and behave yourself."

Finishing his speech, Kamrynn stooped down to pick up the pen he had dropped, on his way up his eye caught his boots and he mused idly to himself; "Hmmm, seems I forgot to lace my shoes again."

[Valimus Willow]

A fool, but an honest, well-meaning fool. Harmless. Valimus made a note to remember this man's face just in case he ever needed to convince a Syliran knight to help him. It was unlikely that such a situation would ever rise, but Valimus had learned early in life to prepare for any possible eventualities. Better to be filled with plans that will never work then not have plans at all, was his maxim for this.

He almost continued his walk into the city, but then stopped himself with an abrupt shake and stepped off the road, beside the knight. He furrowed his brow in a questioning manner, and started to talk to the knight once again. "Just for suggestions, do you know a place where a traveller can find himself a home and a decent rest?"

"Preferably one with good... company." He stressed the last words carefully, staring into the man's brown eyes with an inquisitive look in his red irises. He knew that meeting the man's gaze would possibly bring attention to his eyes, but something about this man invited incompetence. You could make a mistake and this knight would simply ignore it or fail at detecting it.

That still begged the question of if this knight even knew what he meant by company. Valimus didn't know the exact reputation of whores in Syliras, but it was best to find out immediately with this man. "I'm just a weary traveller, you understand. Eager to be comfortable again, if you catch my meaning."

[Kamrynn Sleightyr]

Kamrynn met the Valimus' gaze and listened intently to his question. The red of Valimus' eyes caught the knight's attention, they were uncommon, certainly, in fact, a closer examination revealed that everything about the man was uncommon. A Symenestra, if he wasn't mistaken.

Kamrynn shrugged internally, the man was just looking for a bite and a bed; Symenestra or no, he wouldn't turn a man from the gates for that.

"Oh, I know just the place! A bunch of us knights go there on..." Kamrynn stopped, putting two and two together.

[Good i]company[/i]. No, could he really be asking about that? Kamrynn's face flushed hot and his eyes widened like dinner plates. There must have been a mistake, but then again... the man's devious smile dispelled any doubts.

Well it was legal, so what could he do? "Uh, yeah. I see what you mean, company. Well," Kamrynn fumbled. Even the thought of such an establishment embaressed him, he certainly couldn't make a recommendation, but there was one place that he knew of.

"The Golden Dragon, it might have what you're looking for. I've been there before, once, I mean," He nearly choked. "Not to, you know... You know. I didn't... It was just business! Knight... stuff." He coughed, and his face burned brighter under Valimus' gaze, who now looked as though he would laugh, so Kamrynn looked down at his feet and continued.

"It's right down the main street here, take the left fork when you hit signs for the market district and keep going until you see the Dragon."

The wheels in Kamrynn's head should have started turning then, a Symenestra heading to a brothel was a red flag -they're breeding process was fatal to the mother. Valimus picked the right guard that day; Kamrynn knew little enough about his own species breeding habits, none about the Symenestra's and would be too embaressed to inquire further even had he known.

"Have... a good evening." Kamrynn bade him, eager to get to the next traveler.

[Anchoa]

61st Day of Spring, 510AV

Looking at the gates from afar was one thing. Actually approaching them was another story entirely. Ah, but wasn’t that the point? The young man stood a ways away from the first set of gates, staring up at them with a curious frown. How could people live like that? All crowded together inside a box of stone. It was like a pig deliberately going into a slaughterhouse. It just wasn’t natural. But who was he to condemn? Nobody, that’s who.

Anchoa sighed. Well, it was nobody’s fault really, his need to escape. Life just took a turn in an unexpected direction and things changed. And that’s why a Drykas man was leading his strider rather than riding, heading towards the gates of Syliras. It was a strange concept to him, walking a horse rather than riding. Somehow, it didn’t feel right to not have the powerful beast between his thighs, plowing along through a wave of grass. Glancing back, he saw the stallion in question looked a little deflated in the shadow of Syliras. Poor horse.

“Cheer up, Skylight,” Anchoa cooed, stopping in his trudge to turn and stroke his strider’s muzzle. “It can’t be that bad. Look how many people and other horses live here! There must be something worth the crowded nature, wouldn’t you think?” This didn’t seem to help the buckskin strider in any way, shape or form. Inside he just shook out his mane and eyed his rider with a suspicious twitch of his ears. The Drykas raised his shoulders in a pout. “Well you don’t have to be so rude about it.”

He turned back towards the gates and continued forward, flinching away whenever someone came close enough to touch his bare arms. Maybe he should have taken a shirt from his brothers as a departing gift… Leather jerkins just weren’t made for keeping strange people from brushing against his arms when the path became crowded. Skylight was there instead, his muzzle brushing the small of his back in comfort.

At last, they reached the gates, the guards stopping people to question them. Oh Zulrav help him, he had to actually speak to these people. Puffing out his chest, Anchoa steeled himself. He just hoped they didn’t ask about his family. Anything else and he’d be just peachy. It took a few chimes before they got around to him, though when they did, he wasn’t all that pleased.

“Greetings sir,” the first one said, a bored expression on his face. “Can I please have your name, your location of origin and your purpose of visit?” Anchoa arched an eyebrow. What a strange question. Why would he want to know that?

“Erm, I am called Anchoa Silverstorm and I come from the Sea of Grass. I am only staying a few days,” he replied in his heavily accented Common, nodding matter-of-factly. Behind him, Skylight whinnied, bobbing his own head up and down. Both guards glanced at each other before ushering him through and into the city. Well, that was easy. Now, to find a place for the night…