• Closed • I'll Pick You Up At 7

Dia <3

This is a city located on the coast of western Idalos and stands as a pillar of light against the dark cliff faces surrounding it. Ne'haer is considered a port city for ships as well as the last stop for most seafarers adventuring to locate the Iulure Isles. For this, it is nicknamed "Death's Door". In contrast to its nickname, this city focuses mostly on religious values and rituals for the protection of the immortals watching over their city. Ne'haer is also a city booming with trade and nobility, as well as jobs and plenty of opportunities to advance in skills and crafts.

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Posts: 66
Joined: Sat Mar 11, 2017 7:44 am
Race: Human
Profession: Ambassador
Renown: +30
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Thu Oct 19, 2017 1:51 am

31 Vhalar 717

Hans leaned against the gates of Ne'haer. The road stretched out long before him, winding off into the trees of the inland woods. From here, Cycres, Hyran, Millstone... Ironridge... and home. Marius was tethered to a post a little ways beyond the gate, and he stood there, grazing on the grass, loaded up with Hans' travelling gear.

He knew of the meeting. How could he not? With those he slipped coins to in the Council, Hans was kept abreast of even the smallest of coming and goings... and this meeting was by no means a small one. And as he had loitered in a tavern across the street, drinking a glass of Lysorian red, one of the serving girls for the Council had run out, puffing from the exertion, to gasp out that Dionysia was being thrown out of Ne'haer, never to return.

And so Hans had sprinted up to his room, retrieved his travelling gear, and now was waiting with Marius to pick up Dionysia. While Lysoria did not gain the official ire that Ne'haer held for Ironridge, they knew that they were on the outs. And with war and discontent brewing - Hans could almost smell it on the horizon - it was of utmost importance that Ironridge and Lysoria banded together. For strength and unity.

In not too many trials, there would be a meeting between the two powers. One that Hans was expected to attend. And he would, but how could he let the Ambassador for Ironridge slither back to her home in ousted shame? So he waited. He would be her escort - her guard on the road. And it was an opportunity to strengthen the alliance between the two great states... and perhaps form his own, more personal alliance, one that would benefit him in secret.

Hans waited for the disgraced Ironridge Ambassador. He smoked a pipe as he did so.
Due to his Competency in Empathy, Hans can 'taste' emotions.

While these tastes always stay the same, Hans is either repulsed or attracted
to certain tastes due to his own current emotional states.

While happiness might be delicious to him at one time, this could be disgusting to him
if he is in a troubled personal state.
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Joined: Fri Jun 10, 2016 8:56 am
Race: Ithecal
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Wed Feb 14, 2018 2:14 am

“These document, though authentic, are forged, are they not?”
“My Lord, there is nothing pertaining to forgery on those papers.” Dia responded.
About her were a number of people who sat upon what appeared to be knock-off thrones; shaped as such but not as large or… ‘proclaiming’. Dia would later disgrace such appearances in the name of Ironridge later.
One man in particular, who appeared to be several years older than she, refused to relent on the Ambassador as he examined the facts. Shuffling parchment between his hands, he peered up over the peak of his nose and squinted at Dionysia who stood before the five in her decorated military ensemble.
“So, you mean to tell me that Lokhert did, in fact, know of your whereabouts and your intentions with Ne’haer on behalf of Ironridge.”
She stood quiet for a moment before her gaze shifted to the right and her lips pursed, “No, My Grace was not aware of my intentions.”
“So these documents that state your intentions for entering Ne’haer with intentions of peace were simply… lies.” He waved his free hand towards her, the parchment passed to another comrade.
“As I told my Lord, Ironridge has every intention of creating peace between our countries, so long as the borders stay intact. I believe I speak for the people when I say we will not be absorbed into your territory, no matter if there is war or peace.” She stood straighter. “I implore you to reconcile with the members of your council and see wisdom with the choices that will affect our standing henceforth from today. I’ve only done what I had to do to preserve my homeland and those I love. It is not only my duty as Ambassador of Ironridge, it is my born right.” Dionysia let a small breath pass through her nose. Truth be told, her heart was pounding in her chest and her arms were shaking from the adrenaline pumping through her system over this meeting.
Her words didn’t seem to have any sway with the council by Rauve de Vesci’s next sentence. “You will pay greatly for these transgressions. I’m sure you’re aware…”
“I am.”
Dionysia figured if there would be any consequence in her journey to Ne’haer, it was most certainly death, if not by her Grace then by the people of the city. So it was only right to assume that being kicked out of the city, never to return again, was an appropriate, if not merciful, reaction to what she’d done.
It seemed forever and a day ago that she was sent away from Ironridge to conduct peace treaties, in secret, with their Ne’haerian neighbors. Much of the elite that presided in the ranks and nobility of Ironridge agreed that war between the cities would not suffice. Frankly, Ironridge would not stand a chance and they would die before they allowed others to claim what is rightfully theirs. Lord Lokhert was held up within is wing of the castle for most seasons, only taking audience with his advisors when times called for it. They too suggested negotiations but the Lord would not have it.
There were few ambassadors in Ironridge, though none would take it upon themselves to see to these negotiations for fear of the disgrace they would suffer if they failed, and while Dia knew there was a snowball’s chance in Sirothelle that she would be successful, she accepted the task on the basis that it was for the good of the people.
And now? Now she was disgraced, dishonored, and if not executed, exiled for her actions against her lord’s wishes. Was she a traitor to her homeland now? Surly not as they were the ones that wanted this, but having done so much for Ironridge, would anyone be there for her when the trial commenced?
Fear settled in her gut as she approached the stables to retrieve Vuharu, a companion she had since he was a mere pup of an Ironridge white tiger— a special breed of cat found only in the forests surrounding Ironridge. He was trained to her ways and tolerant of others only because Dia commanded it.
Her mood and presence had piqued his interest when they reunited and instantly, the guards at Dia’s back were forced to step away and draw weapons mid-way due to the cat’s stance changing. He circled close to Dia, his eyes trained on them with murderous intention as a long growl reverberated from beyond his jaws.
Dia held his saddle attachment and bags, calling out to him in a stern tone. “Vuharu, stop.” The cat closed his mighty jaws but the sound still continued even as he circled to the front of her. Quickly, she fastened his saddle and bags, placing the necessary items in each before the two headed for the main gates, the others following in toe.
It didn’t help that the guards were whispering things under their breath. Things that insulted and degraded Dia, Vuharu, and the people of Ironridge. She might have had the nerve to say something, but the woman understood nothing would change their minds, and so, continued to pass through the gates as she came to them. The guards said nothing but watched her leave out into the busy traffic of the road.
“Come now, Vu. We’re going home.” She told as she tucked the black cloak she wore to her form tighter and lifted the pack she carried onto her shoulder higher.
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