The Great Parhn Gate

Named after Etzos' original founder, all players new to the city must post their arrival here first

0th of Cylus 0

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The Great Parhn Gate

The Great Pahrn Gate

(All new arrivals must post here)
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You left the river behind a short while ago now, and see that the approaching forest carpeting the great hill before you has obviously been cleared. In the midst of this wide swath of open ground rises the fortress city of Etzos, and you feel its watchful eyes upon you.

But unless you are at the head of an enemy force, there is no sense of unease brought on by the towering stronghold rising above the plains. The fact is, you feel relief. All unbiased reports you have heard agree that all men are welcome, provided only that they bring no religious zealotry with them. "Leave your Immortals at the door" is the policy known to prevail in this city.

As you make your way up the wide, walled stoneway, you find the foremost gates thrown open in apparent welcome. A large stone statue, many times your height, stands in the center of the court in tribute to the honored memory of Morgan Parhn, the city's primary founder. His stern visage neither smiles nor scowls as it looks down upon you, arms resting upon the haft of his great Battle Axe. It merely gives testimony to the rumored "no-nonsense" attitude which is consistently relayed whenever this city is spoken of.

"No nonsense" also describes the demeanor of the armored guardsman that now approaches you, his every motion reflecting agile weapon skills. But his sword is sheathed and he holds only a tablet of parchment and a quill pen. There are, of course, a half-dozen similar guards close by. They also have their weapons sheathed, but their air of competence gives you no doubts about the number of ticks it would take for them to reduce you to surrender or death, were you to make trouble.

But the guard does not provoke you, asking only your name, your business, and an account of any previous visits. He then states your obligation to list and confirm any noteworthy items you bring, and that you promise to refrain from any public worship of Immortals. He clarifies that you are not required to be openly outspoken against them, but merely to make no mention, or conduct any celebratory activity, related to them. Finally, he offers directions or advice on where to go or who to see to find supplies or land employment or whatever else you might seek.

Having answered these questions and secured whatever information you need, the second gate, a massive affair appearing to made entirely of black iron, is opened, and the city of Etzos welcomes you inside.
word count: 440
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Kydrel
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Arch 716, 6th Trial of Cylus

Silence filled the early evening, darkness covering the land, darker still, the clouds that hung ominously in the air. A large forest sprawled out across the landscape, shadows shifting angrily, their leafy branches reaching overhead as if to play with the heavens above. All was peaceful.


Wha-wha-shhhhh.


Silence.


Wha-wha-shhhhh.


Silence.


A noise, slowly at first but increasing in sound, began to replace the stillness.


A dark shape appeared, humanoid in nature, its two large wings lazily beating in time with each other, feathery appendages moving effortlessly, catching the updraft and gliding through the air. Sharp, yellow eyes stared at the ocean of shadows below, scanning the terrain. It wasn’t long until they locked onto the large hill bathed in light with a city perched on it in the only large clearing as far as the eye could see. Spotting a downdraft, the figure angled towards it and began his descent.


The form plunged towards the edge of the clearing, marking its landing. Just before crashing into the dirt, its wings flared out, legs swinging downward and the winged person touched down, running a few yards to slow down, almost barreling over in its speed to land.


The Avriel’s chest heaved, breathing raggedly, having flown most of the day, trying to arrive at the gate of Eztos before sunset. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another night outside. He had enough of that to last him a while. The winged man brushed himself of, knocking the dust that settled on him from the landing. Wings rustled together, trembling slightly from the exertion demanded of them, before folding neatly behind him as he checked to make sure his gear was still intact.


Readjusting his plated vest around his chest more comfortably and cinching his belt on tighter, weapons dangling in their sheaths, Kydrel Sevnium strode wearily, towards the gate that rose in the distance.


It took him almost a quarter of a break to arrive at the base of the city, exhaustion having finally seeped into his limbs, his long journey having taken its toll on him. But he straightened his back, standing tall, amassing an air of confidence in his posture, a dark gleam in his eye. He’d be damned if he let anyone see his fatigue.


His eyes locked onto the guards that stood outside the gate ahead of him, the light creating a ring around them, steeling himself for their accusatory glare that was sure to come. It didn’t much bother him. To be fair, he had little regard for them in return. If anything, he probably cared less for them, and then they did for him. Rather, his hesitancy revolved around being refused entry because his snide tongue got the better of him. Summoning up a wall of resolve and hoping his anger remained slumbering, Kydrel strode forward into the light.


As the Avriel approached, a few of the guards tensed upon seeing him, a murmur passing from soldier to soldier as word spread. Most of them turned from their task and stared at him with barely concealed contempt, hands drifting towards their weapons. Only one guard, however, remained impassive and unmoved as the Avriel advanced towards him. He could feel the soldiers close around him slightly as he passed, the feathers around his face lifting in anticipation. “Please state your name, business and previous visits made.”


The monotone and professionalism marked the gatekeeper as having dealt with countless people in his time. Nothing in his voice betrayed a hint of emotion he may have been feeling towards the Avriel standing before him. But Kydrel caught a slight hardening of his eyes that gave him away.


A smirk pulled at the exiled Avriel’s lips quickly before disappearing as fast as it had come. They were all the same. Humans. He resisted the urge to spit, keeping his face as neutral as possible before replying.


“Kydrel Sevnium. Lookin’ for work. Never been…” He looked around, making eye contact with the other guards with barely concealed distaste, Kydrel wasn’t impressed by what he saw. Though land dwellers rarely impressed him. His eyes swept back to the man holding the parchment, trying as hard as he could to remain as impassive as the gatekeeper in front of him. “here.”


Whether or not the gatekeeper heard the slight pause or change of tone in the warrior’s voice, he gave no indication. “Any noteworthy items that we should know about?”


Kydrel met his gaze coolly, silent for a couple trills, feathers along his wings rising in challenge. He managed to still them as soon as he realized what he was doing, hoping the guards didn’t recognize the sign of hostility. Not seeing a response, he once again resisted the urge to scoff. He finally responded, regaining his composure and waved to his weapons at his waist.


“I have what I carry.”


The gatekeeper nodded and jotted something down on the parchment. As he finished, he looked up. “If you require lodging there is a place called the Inn for-“


He was abruptly cut off as one of the other guards spoke up loudly. The younger guard glared at Kydrel, his hand gripping the hilt of his weapon tightly.


“That place isn’t for the likes of you! You’re lucky we even let you stay here. If anything you’d be at-” Before he could even finish his sentence, the gatekeeper, faster than the Avriel thought possible, was in front of the soldier, hand raised as if to strike him.


“ENOUGH.”


The arrogant guard cowered slightly, but still held his ground. “Sir, you can’t honestly expect-“


“I said, enough.” The words lashed out like a whip, silencing the guard. “Speak again and I’ll see that you are court marshaled. Am I understood?” The guard nodded meekly. The gatekeeper stared at him as if making sure his message was made before returning to stand before the Avriel. The guard still glared vehemently at Kydrel.


“I apologize for his behavior." He continued on as if nothing happened. "The Inn For Dinner is available if you need a place to stay, temporarily. If you are looking for a more permanent solution, you will need to head to Office of the Citizen’s Committee". You will also be able to find work there. Enjoy your stay.”


With an abrupt nod, the gatekeeper signaled their conversation was over.


Kydrel tilted his head until he was able to make eye contact with the angry guard behind him, who was still staring at him. He let his lip twitch up into a smirk, almost baring his teeth, watching as the soldier’s face turned red in anger, before whirling around, his wings billowing around him and headed into the city.
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Last edited by Kydrel on Tue Mar 08, 2016 10:16 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1143
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As the avriel made his way through the second gate, the Braxton of the Gate made a subtle gesture to one of the guards inside. A few ticks later, that guard returned a gesture, so the gate knew the new arrival was not lingering nearby. Then he turned on his subordinate in snarling anger, not staying his hand this time.

His fellows, hardened veterans of many battles, could not help but wince at the impact of steel gauntlet to rosy cheek, all the more vulnerable in the cold weather.

"What the 'Thelle is wrong with you?" he hissed, making reference to the hostile northern city of Sirothelle. "We've all earned this gravy detail, boy! All but you, anyway. And I won't have you ruining it for us. Your daddy may be high up in ranks, but he'd have your hide for this as quick as any!" A growling mutter from without indicated the agreement of the other men present.

The wide-eyed youngster sputtered in incoherent confusion for a moment before the Braxton gestured him to silence with a threatened second gauntlet. "Yes, yes, We ALL know what trouble the avriel can be. Do you think you're unique in this knowledge, you stupid ass! But now HE knows he may have eyes and ears on him. If he's here to cause trouble, he'll be more careful now."

"But...w-wouldn't it be...better if we just kept them out?" the youngster ventured hesitantly.

The Braxton sighed as if the kid was beyond hope, and one of the other men stepped in, "Look, kid, if he's here with more than just usual avriel arrogance, then he may have a mission, which means there may be a contact, which means there may be information we can get out of them. Whatever it is, we'll know soon enough, but now it's going to be harder because he'll be alerted to be careful. Either way it's Seggy's problem now." the man said, referring to Black Guard Captain Segrille, the commander of the city's internal security force. "...But there's no reason to make it harder on him. I happen to like the guy."
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Arc 716, 14th trial of Cylus
Alex trudged forward, her feet damp and sore. The boots were beginning to fall apart, and she detachedly watched the threads drag along the snowy ground. Just one foot in front of the other, that's it. It had been unnaturally cold, even for Cylus, and Alex had shivered herself to sleep for the past week.

Alex was jerked out of her numbness by a hard jolt on her arm. Yet again, her cart had become stuck. Just what she needed. She shuffled her way to the back of the cart, and gave it a good shove. Her feet slipped out and she fell, face first, into the cold wet snow. Oh of all the... Alex thought to herself as she slowly got up, wiping the snow from her face. The little bit that had managed to melt was trickling down her body, and the freezing line it left behind chilled her even further.

Alex looked around for help, but the road was deserted at this time of year. The darkness was already growing, and it was barely midday. With a sigh, Alex curled up on herself, and slowly shifted. She could normally shift within a few minutes, but since it was so cold, Alex had to spend almost fifteen bits before she noticed it begin. Her hands became stiff, the fingers elongating and the nails extending far out of their beds. Her eyesight disappeared next, slowly returning as her new eyes came in. And finally, her wings began to grow. As always, this part was an exquisite pain. The stretching of the skin on her back, until the wings burst through in a sheet of darkness.

She looked up and down the road, and still not seeing anyone, walked back over to the cart. Gripping it with her talons, she crouched and lifted, beating her wings at the same time. The extra power that she had when she was Valyeria was enough to get the cart back on the road. She dropped it back down, and folded her wings on her back. Hmmm, I really would prefer not to change again, but I don't want any trouble at the gates... She groans as she realizes what she has to do, and begins to reverse the change.

Several breaks later, she could see the gate. She grabbed the horse's reins, and began pulling him along. Her fingers were numb, and she could see them turning slightly blue- not a good sign. She picked up the pace, her soaked boots sloshing through the few inches of wet snow on the ground.

She arrived at the gate, surprised at how large the statue was. As she stood there gaping at it, a guard wearing chain mail approached her, and cleared his throat. "Ah hem, Ma'am?" His voice cracked on the words, and he blushed a deep red.

Alex turned to face him, her open expression emphasizing her large eyes. "Yes, Sir? How can I help you?" She began to slightly shiver, and she wasn't sure how much of it was fake. Her feet really were numb, and she didn't want to stand here and deal with some pubescent boy.

The guard paused, and stared at her for a moment before glancing away. "I need to ask you a few questions before you go in. Is that okay?"

Alex could tell by his stance that, despite his age, he knew how to use that sword sitting on his hip. She briefly considered lying, but there is no point in taking that senseless of a risk. "Yes, Sir." She made an attempt to look small and innocent, and by his reactions she thought it was working.

"Right. Well then." He cleared his throat a few more times, and shuffled some papers around. "I need your name, why you're here, an account of any past trips here, and if there's anything noteworthy that you're bringing in." He appears very nervous, and despite the frigid temperature, she notices a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

"Yes, Sir. My name is Alexandra McKay, I'm here looking for work as an apothecary, and I've never been here before. I only have the necessities, and nothing more." She clasped her hands behind her back, and stared down at her feet.

"Very well then, go talk to the Office of the Citizen’s Committee to sort out more permanent residence." He turned sharply and walked away, the sword swingingly wildly on his hip. She heard an explosion of laughter from the other guards as he returned, and she knew they were ribbing him for the voice crack. She turned, and headed through the big black gates.
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Jachiel
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60 Ashan 716

Jachiel pulled his gaze away from the distant fields and looked instead towards the gate as he continued to trudge forward. The trader's caravan couldn't take him further than this, so it looked like he'd be staying here. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, partly for warmth, partly to try and pass for uninjured. If they turned him away, thinking him as unable to work as some in Andaris had, he'd have nowhere left to go.

As the stone-faced guardswoman stepped forward with parchment and quill, Jachiel felt his own shoulders instinctively squaring like the soldier he'd been until recently. Hard eyes scanned Jachiel, but the only response was a series of apparently routine questions.

"Name? Business? Been here before?"
"Jay." Jachiel gave the short form of his name and cut off the rest. New life, new name, and best not to have his past reputation catch him up if he could help it. "Here to work. First time here."
"Anything noteworthy?"
Jachiel pulled his left hand out of his pocket long enough to push back the flap of his coat and reveal the gladius belted on his left hip. "Just this."

The guard made a note of it, then rattled off a short speech about not worshipping the Immortals. She didn't mention the Seven, and Jachiel didn't bother to tell her he followed non-immortals anyway. She finished up, "and to find work, you should go to the Office of the Citizen's Committee. They'll find you something suited to your-" she looked him over again and her lip curled a little in disdain, "-skills."
word count: 280
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Nauta F'mos Geey
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36 Ashan 716


The red haired man stood in front of the gates. A pause. It was not because he was in awe of the gates or the soldiers standing around, he was already quite used to such things nor did he feel anything for the statue which is what he assumes to be a symbol of Etzos. Nauta...no F'mos now, was quite familiar with the ongoing war between his former home which has a living symbol of its own and Etzos which would want nothing more than to get rid of it as the old story goes. That was his worry. Not the war, but that he would be found out as an Aukari from Sirothelle.

Fortunately there was a sort of idea on what may happen. Stories repeated over and over of Aukari claiming to have returned from visits to Etzos but Nauta considered them unfounded boasts from the way they were told. Would he be able to get through without any issue or would there be an extended stay in some cell for him? Or maybe they would kill him as an enemy. He considered turning back. Not to a home he wouldn't return to but to go further south. However he wouldn't be able to make the journey well enough yet and...one of the guardsman was already headed to him.

It was the moment of truth. Somehow Nauta was able to put together one of those things he learned to make from his dear mother during his journey. He could only pray that by Faldr-, that his handiwork would work and last long enough for what he needed it to do. He was not too confident about his work because it was already...

"F'mos" Nauta said, his thoughts interrupted by the question the guardsman asked.

"I'm..." he said trying to ignore the pressure from the guardsman who was eyeing him "...a cook looking to improve his craft by..." expanding? Broadening? No, "increasing his recipes."

A piss poor excuse, one he had more than enough time to decide on just like anything else that he might be asked. What Nauta did learn as a youth which surprisingly still was useful today was the knowledge that whatever untrue things he was going to give might as well be as close to any facts as he could make them.

"And no I've never been here before" he could say without any worries. If he had joined the grunts proper, maybe. But he always had a somewhat cushy job back home in comparison. Much like the guardsman he was talking to. Safe and away from the war behind the city's walls.

The guardsman started to ramble on about some things F'mos should be aware of in Etzos. Sounds like the usual the usual. Then he started to feel F'mos. The Aukari could feel himself inhaling. His worries was like a spark in his core but it didn't take. It wasn't fast enough. F'mos was relieved. His doubts in his work was gone and next time, if there was a next time, it would be much more better.

Another pause, but brief as F'mos knew he had nothing else to hide. As a precaution he had already hid anything which may betray his identity a bit of a ways from the city and acted as if everything else about him was normal. Ugh... It was going to be a chore for him to figure out how he was going to sneak his armor and rapier into Etzos but one step at a time. And F'mos knew he already made a very significant one even as he passed through big black gates.
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Arc 716th - first day of Rebirth Cycle -


"Don't panic."
The few words of encouragement, in its own way, were spoken without any other sign of acknowledgment towards Dmitri as his mentor went over their backstory and reason for coming here, one last time, as the convoy of banded traders and travelers arrived at the fairly steep but maintained ramp leading up to the opened gates. Dmitri knew Vasily well enough by now, to realize the rare times he spoke for the benefit of Dmitri was when that benefit was shared between the two. If Dmitri gave their true nature, reasoning or goals to be here, away...Vasily would find himself in quite the predicament, considering Dmitri walked in his tow. Which is why the had their own carriage and rehearsed in said carriage over and over again. Until both their stories were synchronized and they were both able to answer any imaginable question concerning their jobs, relation, etc in a fluid and natural manner.

Dmitri had pretended to have a rough time dealing with this acting, in truth it was almost easier than 'being himself' but being a natural liar and actor, might trigger some alarms in old Vasily's sharp mind, so he did his best to occasionally stumble over his words or think overly long when answering certain questions. To great annoyance from Vasily's end, but after a reasonable amount of time spent preparing, Dmitri slowly but surely got the hang of it.

As soon as the caravans and carriages came to a halt, Dmitri gave Vasily a quick look and shifted his facial expression in a relaxed look of awe and relief to have arrived at the great city of Etzos as he got off and helped the feeble old man get on his two feet before he took it upon himself to take their belongings up the ramp into the concourse, a tiring task considering they had packed a great deal as they weren't simply passing travelers, but aspiring residents of Etzos. As soon as he was done, he went back down towards Vasily who waited for Dmitri to support him in walking up the wide, sloped entryway.

It didn't take the armored guardsman long to make his tour around the group of travelers, merchants, artisans, mercenaries, you name it...Apparently several of the convoy's members had already been here in the past, probably travelling merchants who brings good from all over and sell them in the places where those goods are most scarce, for a high price. Dangerous job considering the time spent travelling through wild territories to get from region to region, the percentages of profit must be enormous?! Once one of the guards walked up to them and asked them their names and their motives to come to Etzos, Vasily told him he was a soon-to-be retiring gem appraiser who wanted to teach his apprentice, Dmitri, more before doing so. What better place to do so than Etzos?! The guard nodded with a courteous, short life-span smile on his lips before turning his attention to Dmitri. "You're the apprentice?" Dmitri nodded and after a few more anticipated questions answered, the guard suddenly looked up from his parchment and gave them both a quick stern look as he informed them about Etzos' policies involving Immortals, if that was an issue for them, etc.

Vasily answered "Not at all." While Dmitri simply sneered and shook his head as if he disdained the Immortals. Something that seemed to please the guard. After a few more questions and scribbles on his parchment, he gave them a quick summary of where to go next for housing, jobs, etc.

When the guard walked away, Vasily and Dmitri said their goodbyes and spoke about this & that while packing their belongings and going on their merry way into Etzos' inner city circles. Not a dark cloud in the sky so far. Good start.
word count: 661
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Nightshade Eld
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Arc 716, 10th of Saun
She had been putting this off for so very, very long. Nightshade stood at the gates to the great city known as Etzos. She contrary to many others felt no relief stepping up to those giant gates. For so many arcs she had put off actually entering the city. Large amounts of people still didn't bode well for her. A loner attitude combined with a dislike of crowds and a fear of being hated did that to a person. She pulled her wings as close to her body as possible. Though it didn't really do much for her appearance, the fact she was half Avriel was entirely obvious, it did make her feel better. She kept a passive look on her face, one that showed no emotions. She walked tall and proud with a touch of arrogance but not an aura of it. Her step made her appear a person of importance but the look on her face kept her from seeming to rude.

She had no problem with the law on immortals. If anything she was relieved. She had nothing on her person to show herself as an actual follower of her chosen immortals and she was far from zealous. She only followed the ones she did out of simple appreciation for what they stood for. Perhaps that was why she had yet to acquire a mark of any kind, but the thought didn't really bother her.

Nightshade had no intention of causing trouble. She just needed better work. She had stayed out of the city through the grace other travelers, selling them meat or fur from her hunting. On occasion she had to go into the city before to sell furs she couldn't sell to travelers as well as by other kinds of food besides meats. She had no doubt these guards were far more powerful than she. She couldn't help but slightly marvel at them. Maybe one day she could be that strong. Hopefully, if she ever had a chance of accomplishing her dreams she was gonna have to be.

"Nightshade Eld, looking for work. I've come into the city a couple times for supplies," she responded curtly. She didn't put on the kind appearance she usually did when speaking to other people. She knew at this point it wasn't going to do her any good. Instead she put on a professional air, one of business. She hoped she could leave it at that. "The only thing currently on my person are my clothes and my sword for self defense," she said moving her cloak to the side in order to better allow sigh of the sword, however she dared not to lay a hand on it.

She simply nodded along quietly with all the rest of the information. She had and most likely always will stay quiet on her choice of immortals unless directly asked. Nothing else really concerned her much. With that she went along her way.
word count: 505
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Kulbreck
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3 Zhalar 716 -- Kulbreck moves to Etzos



It had been a difficult 43 trial journey out of the burning sands of the Hotlands and across the roiling sea by trade ship; his first sea voyage. That in itself was a challenge. Now on his last leg to Etzos, the supply wagon Kulbreck had hitched a ride with from the docks of Etzos was nearing the city gates of his destination. His usually squinting eyes were gradually adjusting to the new light. His heavy coat did little to keep him as warm as he was used to but he realized it would only be a matter of time before he acclimatized to the new weather. He settled in between crates and took in the view of this new land.
The sun was different here, not the harsh white glair of the desert he was familiar with, but a more blue-ish yellow light that reminded Kulbreck of the mottled skin of the lizard birds in the plateaus near Nashaki. Here in the fairer climes of Etzos there was no need for pin-feathered, heat pestered, flightless birds that clung to cliff edges by clawed fingers and toes for survival. In this part of the Idalos there were rich grasslands and plains, forested mountains with trees as far as the eye could see. Flying birds were everywhere, and game animals. And fish in the water. So much water. It was a beautiful place, no doubt about that, but it was nothing like his birthplace.
This display of beauty could almost make him claustrophobic. Coming from a land with rarely any trees to fence you in, the natural flora was very nearly disturbing. So many trees. So much plant life. And clouds. Fat, water-filled, clouds floated calmly overhead. It was all strange for him. So... foreign. As far as he was concerned, the air could be a bit warmer, too, and he said so to the wagon master and his employee.
“Well, you just missed the hottest weather a few cycles ago,” said the master, cracking his whip over the mules’ heads. He was dressed in a light sleaveless shirt and light pants. No shoes, no hat. His employee sitting beside him was similarly dressed.
The road from the river port was a slow, gradual climb to the top of a great hill that had so far been filled with forest. Suddenly the trees were no more and a great open area provided a magnificent backdrop to the famed fortress city of Etzos. Kulbreck gave an involuntary shiver as he recalled the city of Nashaki where he was enslaved for ten years.
“Is this a city that looks fairly on foreigners?” he asked guardedly.
“Ha! These people are more worried about Immortals than foreigners. Unless you’re looking to bring in a new religious age, you shouldn’t have anything to fear. You aren’t, are you?” he asked turning in his seat to eye Kulbreck.
“No,” he smiled. Religion was the last thing anyone thought of in Nashaki. It seemed to be similar here.
“Good,” he chuckled adding another crack to his whip to get the mules up the hill. “We’ll be there in another few bits. You keep your head down, mind your manners and obey the law, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Right,” he muttered looking at his luggage. “No problems.” The jangle and clank of the travelling wagon took his mind back to the forges of Nashaki. Yie’aza would bring him food and water and sit with him while he regained his energy.

”That looks beautiful, Kul. What’s it go to?” she asked admiringly fingering the twists and graceful turns of the piece.
”Thanks, Yie’aza. It’s just a fence spear.” One of three thousand, he thought bitterly.
“Kul, how many times have I told you to call me Yaza,” she said with a beautiful pout on her pearly lips. She coyly rocked the lunch basket in her arms. Kulbreck couldn’t help smiling at her. She was absolutely beautiful. Tall, lithe, graceful.
“Because, your father... forbade me, remember?”
“Oh, he just owns your services, not your heart,” she smiled.
“I’m his slave, Yie’aza,” he said losing his smile.
She stole a furtive glance over her shoulder and leaned in to whisper. “I might be able to do something about that.” She turned on her heal and bounced away, her silk scarf trailing off her perfectly round, hairless head, and Kulbreck’s mind in confusion.



The wagon master left him off at the open front gates with a wave and a good luck. Kulbreck waved and turned to admire the stone statue of the city founder. At least that’s what the stone plaque said. This was the land where he could start over. No longer would he be known as the disgraced son of a theif, but a renowned craftsman in metal and wood. An artisan in his own right. At least, that’s what Yie’aza had told him. He had to believe that, for his sake. An armored guard approached him carrying a tablet and a pen.
“And you are...?” he asked inspecting Kulbreck from head to toe.
“Gedain. Kulbreck Gedain.”
“Anything of value to declare?”
Kulbreck thought of the precious hammer in his luggage that his father gave him. He was not sure how they would react to that special tool. “No, nothing.”
“Welcome to Etzos, Mr. Gedain,” the tall guard said jotting his name on the tablet. “What brings you to see us?”
“I... I’m moving here, I hope.”
“Oh, I see you were impressed from the last time you were here that you decided to move here, is that right?”
“Well, no. I’ve never actually been here before, but I have heard great things about Etzos.”
“Ah, like our public worship of the Immortals, eh?”
“No,” he said adamantly and eyeing the guard suspiciously. “I heard the opposite was true about Etzos.”
“Heh,” the guard laughed. “You’ll do. Get yourself to the Office of the Citizen’s Committee. They’ll help you out with a job and a place to stay. Even more if you’re interested.” With that, the guard passed Kulbreck off to the inner black iron gates of the city to begin his new life.
word count: 1056
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Aerlan
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Posts: 36
Joined: Thu Dec 08, 2016 4:57 pm
Race: Eídisi
Renown: 24
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The Great Parhn Gate

26th Zi'da, 716
Aerlan heaved a deep breath as he stopped to massage his aching calves. Before him stood the Great Pahrn Gates of Etzos, and the Frayed wondered if he should feel intimidated. His eyes glanced at the statue of the city founder and then back to the obviously watchful and martially-adept guards. I'm sure intimidation is what is meant to be felt. I should act as such. Looking in front of him, the Eidisi noted what looked like a snake-man hybrid and the guard speaking. Ah, I have never seen an Ithecal before. Few of their kind wander around Viden. Too cold, perhaps? Interesting. It was a short wait for the Ithecal to answer the guard's questions and then be waved into the city. The guard's piercing gaze turned directly to Aerlan and waved him to approach.

"Should I spook him," the whisper inquired directly into Aerlan's mind. No, Glaren. That would be unwise. Spook some simpletons once we get inside, but don't alert the city guards to our nature. The whisper chuckled slightly and fell silent.

Placing the best amiable grin he could fake upon his face, Aerlan stepped up to the guard. He made no bow of deference, but nodded his head in respect for the man's station. Afterall, Eidisi may be far above these humans but no good comes from starting strife without reason. The guard looked the Eidisi up and down, taking note of his furs and general apperance. Aerlan could tell the man was looking for weapons, or any threat for that matter. Finding absolutely nothing, the guard grunted and began his standard line of questions regarding name, business, and previous visits. Answering them simply but with no elaboration, Aerlan spoke the answers in monotone, forgetting to try to fake a friendly voice with the smile. "Aerlan. To study and expand my knowledge of the world outside of Viden. No, I have not been to this city before." The guard looked up from writing the answers, his eyes squinting curiously at the blank tone of Aerlan's voice but not voicing the question in his eyes.

A moment passed before the guard spoke again. "Any noteworthy items or possessions"

"Just little 'ol me," chuckled the Harvester within Aerlan's mind. "No, sir," the Eidisi replied, ignoring his companion's attempt at humor.

The guard noted this reply as well then began stated his memorized and habitual rhetoric of warning about Etzos' Immortal policy. Aerlan shrugged and spoke his consent to the ideal. Afterall, the Immortals were tools unto themselves. Not having to bother faking the shows of devotion those arrogant, founts of power demanded just made his daily life a bit simpler. The guard quickly mentioned the locations within the city that Aerlan could begin with finding supplies, employment, and a place to stay. Mentally noting them, Aerlan thanked the man and was then waved inside. The second black iron gates opened before him and the Eidisi entered into Etzos.

Finally... "Yes, finally. Time to have some fun. The Harvester cackled and the aberrant merely looked forward curiously as he made his first steps into the city.
word count: 533
"Whoso would be a man must be a nonconformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have the suffrage of the world... No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature. Good and bad are but names very readily transferable to that or this; the only right is what is after my constitution, the only wrong what is against it. A man is to carry himself in the presence of all opposition, as if every thing were titular and ephemeral but he. I am ashamed to think how easily we capitulate to badges and names, to large societies and dead institutions."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Self-Reliance"
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