The Gilded Gates ~ Entrance thread

[Syra]

The Gilded Gates

The city gates lack any sort of truly fortified strength. Made up of ornately sculpted metal and climbing, flowery vines, they are clearly made more for ornament than for true protection. The safety of the city is, instead, left in the hands of the armored guards that patrol its streets, and stand at its gates. Five stand outside the quiet gates, no matter what time of day. They are always and uniformly dressed in blindingly polished metal armor bearing Roque's crest. They are silent as they watch visitors pass them by.

Up ahead one can see the city's plateaux rise slowly over the cliffs that touch the enchanting Mer de la Luna to the right. There is no sign of the harbour, save those imposing ships that are large enough to be noticed from here. Obviously the docks are well within the protection of the city walls.

From time to time a salty breeze carries the tolling of a bell, reminding the inhabitants of Roque of their duty to the One god, Dominicus. Other typical sounds of the Mer are drowned out by the busy city life, which starts at these very gates.

Just within the gates, protected from sun and rain by a matching overhang, sit two men at an obviously repaired wooden desk. From the looks of it this sturdy and expensive wood has seen quite some action. Quills and sheets of parchment sit in front of them. Another guard stands beside them, quietly watching any newcomers who approach. A sign above the desk - lettered in gold calligraphy - reads "Information" in Elvish, with its Common Tongue translation beneath it in smaller, less ornate script

A few steps beyond the gates houses are being built -or perhaps rebuilt- on blackened ground. People are working without complaints to get the buildings ready for use as soon as they can. Their faces stern and sober, they contradict the happy tales of the Eternal Summer City.

[Guest]

timestamp: Merday, Chyril 22nd, 1225 AD

IC:
Telnas figured it was around mid morningtide as he approached the gates. He wasn't sure how long he had been on the road, it felt like months, but he knew it was just a few days.
Thinking back he realised that he had been lucky so far, getting out of WM cleanly, getting part of the way on the back of a wagon, put up - and fed - by the occasional fisherman, now he was at the gates. He hoped his luck would continue.

Telnas stopped for a burn or two and studied the entrance to Roque. "hmm, Ornate gates not defensive, he thought to himself and then eyed the 5 guards. His initial thought was to dismiss them as ornate also, but then considering the events of recent times, he realised they were probably experienced men.

Trying to give an air of nonchalance he lifted his backpack up into a more comfortable position and sauntered towards the guards. "Morning", he called out to the guards giving his best disarming smile, and strode on past wondering if he would be stopped.

Inside he stopped once more and looked around, the desk and the two men immediately caught his eye, as did the welcome message.
His eyes flickered to the other side of the gates, taking in the blackened ground and the stern faces of those he could see. This don't appear to be a place of joy, but is it a place of gain I wonder he thought.

Tearing his eyes from the sad view he walked to the desk, or at least what was used as a desk considering the state of it, and spoke in elven, hoping they could understand. "Good morning sir I wish to enter the city and perhaps look for work? maybe you or your friend here could help me?".

[Turi]

Sweetly-scented buds dotted the vines twining through the wrought iron of the Gilded Gates. It had been a harsh winter for the citizens of Roque d’Ancourt but early spring was finally here, and amidst their weariness and despair, there blossomed a renewed sense of hope and determination.

The five guards on the outside of the gates looked Telnas up and down, but seeing no visible signs of trouble they allowed him to pass through without resistance. This did not mean that the soldiers had stopped paying attention to him – one of them turned to watch while the rest stood poised to act at the first sign of conflict. Otherwise, they remained as grim and as silent as ever

The men at the desk were more animated, conversing quietly with each other until they noticed the achadiel’s approach. Immediately, they snapped to attention.

“Namaste.” Now that he was closer to them, Telnas could see that one of the clerks was a dark-haired adhiel, and the other one a sandy blonde human. Interestingly, it was the human who spoke to him first. His pronounciation of the elven speech was atrocious, but he was obviously trying very hard.

“We’ll do what we can, sir,” his colleague took over with a wry smile at the younger man’s efforts. “The One knows, we could use a bit of excitement. Haven’t seen a soul all morning – it’s been quiet like this for months.”

“You’ll need a pass to enter the city. If you could state your name and your business here, we’ll arrange one right away. What kind of work are you looking for, and what sort of skills do you have? ”

[Guest]

"Namaste", Telnas replied in greeting, affecting a slight bow to both of the men.
He placed his staff against the wall and pulled up a nearby chair and sat on the opposite side of the desk.
"My name is Telnas Benfro, as for skills", Telnas though for a moment leaning back on the chair.
"Oh I can turn my hand to almost anything, a jack-of-all-trades they used to call me in Worlds Mouth, I'll be happy to go where help is needed most".
He leaned forward, "Mind you what I need most myself, is a bath, a good meal and a comfortable bed. Not expensive mind, but not a cheap flea-pit place either. Can you recommend anywhere"?

[Turi]

“Jack-of-all-trades, eh?” the adhiel clerk looked at Telnas thoughtfully. Master of none, more likely, he thought. Still, he looks a solid lad and if he’s eager for work he’ll find it. “There’s plenty of rebuilding to be done – almost everyone could use a strong back and a steady hand. Just keep your eyes and ears open and I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking.”

“As to accommodations, well… there aren’t too many places back open for business since the earthquake. You won’t want the Freely Poured. Probably not the Cliff Inn either. Try the Dog’s Home Inn in the Lower City, that’s a good clean place to stay. Or the Blue Parrot in the Merchant’s Quarters, if you prefer more… colourful lodgings.

“There’s the Goose and Gander in the Upper City as well – their prices aren’t much different from the Dog’s Home, but the gentry seem to like it better.” He wasn’t sure how much the gentry would like a lower-class lad like Telnas in their midst, but no-one would stop the achadiel from staying where he pleased.

While the adhiel spoke, the human clerk dipped his quill into an inkstand and scratched Telnas' name out on a piece of card. He hesitated before specifying the achadiel's occupation, but finally settled on Tradesman. Then he pushed the card across the table and held out the quill to Telnas. "Please, to sign here," he requested in his mangled accent.

Once the paperwork was done, the Mouthie traveller was free to enter the city.

OOC: Welcome to Roque! When you're ready, feel free to join/start a new thread in the city.

[Guest]

Sylex could smell the Mer as he came close enough to the city gates to see it for what it was. He felt more exhausted than in any of his days in the Vanguard back at King's Court. The act of walking for hours and the cold earth beneath him the night before had left him aching and out-of-sorts.

But I suppose the Vanguard had me on a fine horse most of the time he thought. In this particular case, I've got nothing but poor Fred here.

"Isn't that right, Fred?" Sylex sighed, as if maybe the donkey on the other end of the reins could hear his thoughts and would have even bothered answering.

The creature loped stubbornly behind Sylex - just large enough to tote Sylex's armor and weapons and other various trappings, but too small for riding. Sylex let the animal come up even with him and patted it on the side.

"The Mother has a fine destiny for you, too, Fred," Sylex went on as he got closer to the gates. "I saw you in the market and something told me that you were the donkey for me... though maybe that something was the fact you only cost a couple of coronet. Even wealth is the way of nature."

Sylex must not have cut much of a knightly figure, he thought to himself as he got close enough to the gate to catch a glimpse of the adhiel clerk who watched newcomers from the wooden desk. Sylex had none of his flashy finery on - and had seen depressingly little evil to raise spear against in the past days of travel. He did not wear his armor or tabard, had not even bothered belting his sword to his side, since he'd found that even that weighed heavily on him after hours of walking. He instead wore only his blue tunic and the leather breaches and leather shoes that he found most suitable for travel that might occasionally veer off well-beaten roads.

I should make my manners properly despite a low appearance today, he thought.

Sylex brought Fred to an irritated stop... the donkey, so fiercely against moving seemed now equally against coming to a halt... and looked up at the clerk, saluting as he had been taught in the Vanguard.

"Good morrow, my friend. I saw these fine gates and I wondered, could the Summer City use another knight errant?"[/i]

[Turi]

The adhiel clerk raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with the human sitting beside him. Was this pup referring to himself? He looked a little shabby... and they'd never seen a knight with a donkey before. Perhaps he was a squire?

Still, it was not beyond the realm of possibility that the man was a knight who had fallen on hard times. Many here had, in recent months.

"I... suppose it could, sir," he said, deciding that it would be best to elicit further information before making any hasty judgements. "May we please know your name and occupation, and your business in the city?"

Beside the clerks, the guard standing watch eyed Sylex with interest.

[Guest]

Sylex felt a slight cloud pass over him. He did not know why he insisted on joking with the clerk in the first place if it was only going to lead to this, as he'd known it would.

Yes, business, he thought. The reason for which I've trekked all across the Western Kingdom.

"I am Sylex dellaCielle, formerly cavalier of the Vanguard of King's Court, and now warrior priest of the Order of the Mother. I have traveled from King's Court in search of my sister - I believe that she may have come to this city."

Sylex's earlier smile faded, and he tried to keep the concern and desperation from creeping into his voice... it would not be knightly, and he could not abide when he failed to act up to his proper standards. It was downright unromantic and ordinary, he thought, that he should not be steadfast. As he continued speaking, he sounded to himself as if he was fourteen again.

"Please... I must ask if you have seen a young girl. She has seen 18 winters now, stands taller than myself, with fairer skin than mine, but with hair and eyes the same color. She was riding a fine grey palfrey with a plain saddle without stirrups that looks Kislovani but isn't. She might have used the name Sylfa, or perhaps something similar to it. She is my sister, you see, and I have come here to find her. You have my word of honor as warrior and priest that I will attend to my own business and bring no strife to your fair city, and that my labors completed I shall take my leave peacefully."

[Turi]

The clerks shook their heads regretfully. “I’m sorry sir, we aren’t the only ones on duty – ” the human began to explain before he was cut off brusquely by the guard standing next to the desk.

“Might’ve used the name Sylfa?” he growled. “Are you tellin’ us your sister came here under false pretences?”

The air grew still. Roque d’Ancourt sought independence from the rule of the Western Kingdom. The report of a Kingdom spy in the Summer City would be unwelcome news indeed. Suddenly, the clerks’ expressions were very, very grim. The clink of chainmail sounded behind Sylex as the soldiers beyond the gate turned their attention to his growing dilemma.

“Private, that is no way to address a priest.”

A firm, authoritative voice cut through the tension. One of the soldiers broke away from his ranks, a stocky greying man, slightly older than the rest of them. As he approached the reception desk, the guard next to the desk seemed to grow calmer and slightly less pugnacious. “Sorry sir,” he muttered, ceding control to the officer.

Corporal Baudouin gave the private a flat look. He never enjoyed dressing down one of his own in front of another military man. There would be words later, but for now, he turned to Sylex. “My apologies, Father dellaCielle. Private Jerome is as sharp as they come, but he has yet to learn the finer points of professional courtesy. Please, have a seat.” He gestured at a wooden chair nearby.

“We can see that you mean no harm and are concerned for your sister’s safety – rest assured, we will do what we can to help you find her. Do you have any further details about her arrival? When she came, who she came with and what she might be doing here, perhaps? Anything you can tell us will be of aid in your investigation and a search of our records.”

As the Corporal spoke, he nodded at the adhiel clerk, who scrabbled around the desk for a large piece of parchment on which he could write a report.

[Guest]

The aggressive private's words and actions had filled Sylex with that thrumming feeling of confrontation - the one he had always distrusted and had been glad to put in check when he had taken up the path of the Mother. He gave Corporal Baudouin a salute with his left hand across his chest in the way a cavalryman should answer a fellow armsman, and took a seat. The exhaustion let up slightly as he took weight off of his feet for the first time that day.

"Thank you, Corporal. As to who she came with... I was told by the guard at King's Court that a girl matching her description was seen with two armed men leaving the city gates and heading in the direction of Roque d'Ancourt. They would have been mercenaries - she could afford them, if she saved the money I sent home while I was in the vanguard, and she might need them if she expected to make the journey here. She appears as I said - my eyes, but with fairer hair and skin. All of her clothes were missing, so I have no idea what she might be wearing. She was always willful, even with my father and I. I imagine she might have tried to pass herself off as a merchant's daughter or something like that... she would have loved the idea of armed men protecting her. Other than that, she'd have spoken in the manner of a citizen of King's Court and her horse - the grey palfrey - was a very good horse, almost better than a girl of her standing would be able to afford. It was my father's, before she took it."

Sylex paused to let the clerk write, aware that he'd been speaking quickly, but then found that he had not explained the truth of the matter.

"My sister Sylfa became upset with... the situation in my house. She resented the vanguard and King's Court for my long absence from home... and there were other reasons. She took all of the money my father had saved for her and the best horse from my father's stables... he's a horsebreeder and liveryman by trade - and then I believe she hired the mercenaries and left for here, as she often spoke of it and the guard at King's Court seems to have seen her heading this way."

Sylex, having said his peace, leaned back.

But will they ask about the "situation" at my house, or will they be kind enough not to broach a painful topic? he thought. And what will they think if they should ask and I, being bound by my word, should tell them...?

[Turi]

For several burns, only the frantic scratching of the clerk’s quill could be heard, as he finished his recording of Sylex’s words. Corporal Baudouin gazed impassively at the former cavalier, weighing up just what he ought to do with this particular case. He hadn’t missed the omissions in the young man’s tale – on paper, they sounded suspiciously vague and he would be derelict in his duty not to follow up with further questions. Yet his experienced instincts told him that Sylex spoke the truth, and he was not without sympathy for the young man’s predicament.

“Son,” he said finally. For a moment, the Corporal seemed to have forgotten how to address a priest himself. “You do realise that in all likelihood, any ruffians your sister might have hired would have made off with her coin and her horse long ago?” He gave Sylex a moment to digest his words, shaking his head at the wayward girl’s folly.

“Still, if you wish to keep searching for her, we won’t stop you,” he continued. “All our public records were… lost back in Samheen, but if your sister arrived here after then we’ll have some indication of her arrival. You can check over at the garrison house.” He pointed at a square, stone building visible from the city gates. “The inns around the city might have her name in their books as well.”

“Just one last thing before we can let you pass.” Baudouin looked rather embarrassed. “For the sake of completeness, I’ll have to ask about these ‘other reasons’ why your sister left your home.” It ran against the Corporal’s fastidious sense of propriety to pry into another man’s personal business, but his job was his job.

[Guest]

Sylex's voice did not change as he addressed the Corporal. He could not lie - painful as the truth was, it was the truth, and he gathered strength from the fact he was telling it. It was all he could do.

"While I was away with the Vanguard, my younger brother and my sister became... seditious. It was my brother's plan to run away with my sister, leaving my father and joining some exiled group interested in the overthrow of the crown. I understand that such people would not be entirely unwelcome in Roque d'Ancourt, if they were discrete enough about it. I found out about it and tried to sway my brother from leaving - he attacked me and I responded with the skills that the King's army taught me. After... that... my sister ran away. She knew people in the underground group... it's why I believe there might have been armed men who would convey her here without killing her and taking her belongings."

Sylex gave his words some time to sink in before continuing.

"The law saw fit to forgive me my sin... who would begrudge a guardsman the life of a dissident? I am a man of law, and if the punishment be nothing in this world, I will take it in the next. I can only pledge to you that I come here to recover my sister and bear her back to my father. It is of no interest to me who my sister is with now or what, if anything, they are trying to do. I will finish my business and not interfere with yours. I have been honest for all men to see, and hope that you view me as such."

[Turi]

Sedition. Kingsmen. Underground resistance groups. These were matters quite beyond the territory of simple gate guards. There was only one sensible course of action that Baudouin could take, and that was to pass the buck.

The Corporal nodded slowly at at Sylex. "Yes... I can see that you speak the truth, Father dellaCielle." Too truly for your own good, perhaps. "Unfortunately, this seems to be a situation requiring some... delicacy, so I can't clear you just like that. I'll need to take it up with my superiors."

"Tell you what, rather than sit around here all day, why don't you wait over at the Cliff Inn ? Just down near the docks to the east. I can send a man to fetch you when we're ready."

He waited to see if Sylex would agree with his suggestion.

[Guest]

Sylex nodded. The additional delay was something he would need to deal with - a price he promised himself he'd pay in order to stay inside the boundaries of the common law of the people.

"I will gladly submit to the authorities in this matter. I appreciate your treatment of me here, Corporal. Go with peace, and The Mother's blessings upon you... I will away to the Inn as you say and await further word."

Sylex rose again, feeling more burdened than before, batting aside the impatience and suppressing it as best he could. He took the reigns of the donkey and gave them first a gentle tug, then a harder one until the animal obeyed him and swung around toward the inn.

"Come, Fred," he said perhaps to the donkey, or maybe for the benefit of the guards, the Corporal and the clerk. "I am proud to have rid with ye, and I would buy ye a flagon of fine ale and hear your sorrows like a firm friend should."

[Rain Windseeker]

There was a merchant caravan arriving. It was not too large or extravagant; in fact, the entire caravan consisted of an few old horses dragging behind a tarp-covered cart and several bored-looking men on horseback.

One of them, sitting on the wagon and half-asleep, suddenly blinked and opened his eyes. "Oh hey, we're here."

He jumped off the wagon and hurried towards the city gates. On closer inspection one could note that the lad was an adhiel, although it was hard to tell because his face and clothing were covered in mud and dust and even a few spots of blood.

"Hail there!" he waved at the guard. "This is a merchant caravan owned and operated by Jorge Esquerenza. We've arrived from Dragonskeep, and are looking to enter Roque for trading purposes. I've got all the goods papers as inspected by Dragonskeep guards. You're free to inspect the goods on the cart if you wish."

Rain Windseeker was becoming used to the whole process. Most merchant caravans he joined up with were too cheap to hire on an ambassador, and since the owner often doubled as a horse driver, they often used the scout - him - to do all the city gate paperwork.

"Here are our papers." The adhiel handed a stack of worn parchments to one of the guards.

[Turi]

"Thanks." Private Jerome handed the documents to the entrance clerks, who shuffled through the papers and nodded at Rain. "These appear to be in order. We'll need their signatures to issue a city pass to each member of your party, but it should only take a few moments sir."

While they busied themselves drawing up the paperwork, the guards outside the gates began to search through Rain's caravan, working together in an efficient and orderly manner. Normally, there were five of them but at the moment there were only four, with one of their officers having left to sort out problems with another newcomer earlier in the day. This left everyone free to breathe a little easier than they usually did. Corporal Baudouin was a stickler for protocol and discipline.

Private Jerome slouched at his post and pulled a small pouch of tobacco out from under his cloak. "Smoke, mate?" he asked Rain, offering him a roll of paper and a pinch of the leaves from the bag. "Go on, looks like you had a rough trip from Dragonskeep," he observed, taking in the scout's ragged appearance.

"So, this your first time to Roque? She's not quite been the same since the earthquake and the fires, but the ole girl's tough, she's gonna pull through I tells ya." As he chatted away, the gate guard expertly rolled up his own smoke and lit it with a flint and steel. The clerks glared at him, flapping their hands meaningfully as if to wave the acrid smoke from their faces, but he ignored them. "Still worth a look around, if you've got the time. You gonna be stayin' with these merchant boys mate?" Jerome waved the smouldering rollup at the caravan. "Or do you got other plans?"

[Rain Windseeker]

"Thanks," Rain didn't smoke often, but he wasn't one to decline an invitation, and it had been quite a long week. Taking the offered items, he rolled the tobacco up and lit it.

"Fires and earthquakes? Bit of a mess, then. But better than some o' the places I've been sleeping. Bandit attack nearly every night," he winced.

Rain spoke in accented human; although his knowledge of the language was not particularly advanced, he'd picked up enough from the Taloh school and the various merchants he worked for. Besides, the conversations were at city gates were usually the same everywhere. His voice was soft, but firm.

The adhiel shrugged at the soldier's question. "Finished my run, so I haven't any reason to stay. I'm probably going to stay a few days, look for some outbound caravans to jump onboard. Many caravans pass through Roque lately?"

[Turi]

"A few, a few." Wisps of smoke curled forth from Jerome's mouth and nostrils, like dragonsbreath. He leaned against the table, tapping at the rollie he held between his thumb and forefinger and scattering ash all over the paperwork, much to the annoyance of the clerks. "Do you mind?" came the indignant protest. The private rolled his eyes, but desisted.

"Yeah, anyways, plenty of ships still coming and going, the trade's hardly been touched," he said turning back to Rain. "Docks are probably yer best bet if you're needin' to find work quickly."

While the guardsmen finished their inspection of the caravan, the clerks completed their administrative duties and a stack of parchments was handed to Rain along with an inkpot and quill. "Can you read, sir? We'll need to have these signed by the right people - if they can't sign then an X will do." On each of the cards was the name and occupation of each member of the caravan, including Rain, and their reason for entering the city. Once the paperwork was done, and verified by the guards once again, the traders were left free to enter the city.

[Rain Windseeker]

Rain nodded at the clerk's reply. "Yes, no problems." He read and signed his form, before waving the other caravan members over.

"All's done, fellas. Just sign your cards and you can go." He waited patiently for the others to sign their forms. Once done, he would give the guard a friendly nod - "See ya around, then" - and proceed into the city. His work with the caravan was effectively over; all he had to do was to wait for them to finish all the administrative matters.

[Turi]

OOC: Hey Rain, lettin' you know that you can go ahead and post in the city now. Sorry if you were waiting for me to say specifically that you could... anyways, have fun and welcome to Roque!

[Aster Lu'ulnen]

It had taken all manner of transportation to see Aster to Roque d’Ancourt, it seemed, and he had never been happier to see a city than he did at this moment. Tales of the Summer City’s theaters and such heard throughout his travels from T’aquar had done much to drown out the negative tales of racial hatred and discrimination which had accompanied them. It was the theaters and the fact that, despite the hate, the Adhiel dominated the majority which had drawn him closer and closer to the fabled city.

And now here he was – at their gates.

He had imagined, as he traveled, thick stone walls and such rising over that final crest in the land to greet him, but the walls which really existed delighted the lithe entertainer with their decorative manufacture coupled with the fauna which seemed to subtly threaten to reclaim the city back to nature as Mother had always intended. Aster tried fruitlessly to pause for a moment and knock the dust from his clothes – his taste for black fiber equated only with Tazlure’s taste for coating that same fiber in its own earthy shades at every possible opportunity. With a small grunt of dissatisfaction at the stubborn dust-skin, Aster continued his movement toward the guards and gates, his head bobbing in syncopated rhythm with his footsteps, neck craned forward as always.

The thin Adhiel gave a nod to the guardsmen when none attempted to stop him, a lone finger rising to point toward the desk as he winked. His worldly travels had been sparse, limited only to his trek from T’aquar, but he had already grown somewhat accustomed to what seemed to be a universal standard-issue passage checkpoint and he assumed the desk to be such a checkpoint as he walked, practicing the human words over and over in his head in the form of a small poem he had made up shortly after the last ‘name, occupation, reason for visit’ inquisition.

Acting a bit impish and impulsive, Aster held up his hand before the guards could address him, spitting out the verses as quickly as possible, hoping to give the men a bit of humor in an often humorless task.

“To you gentlemen, I say ‘Namaste’,
My guess is that my name I must say,
Along with what I have skill in,
My reason for visiting within,
The name of relatives, both alive and deceased,
The color of my undergarments, and if I come in peace,
What I had for breakfast, for whom the bell rang,
And when I walk to which side my dangly bits hang,
I jest about a few, but know well the tune,
My name, without jest, is Aster Lu’ulnen,
My country is the lovely isle of T’aquar,
And my occupation, had you not guessed it, a humble bard…”

He smiled and gave a bow, regardless of their reactions, hoping that his attempt as breaking the monotony they surely must face would not be taken as either an insult or trick, as he was highly allergic to pummeling of any form. With a curious expression, he raised his eyes once more and tried to gauge expressions and unspoken reactions, lowering his hand gracefully as his head gave another small bow, this time without lowering his eyes.

[Syra]

Chyril 24th, TT

"Move it, MOVE it!" Several people were shoved aside as a burly man lead his flock of sheep out of the gates to greener pastures. The ones standing in line to get into the city watched the little parade with amusement. It wasn't every day that someone managed to get more than one sheep into the citygates and judging by the amount coming out the man had done some interesting dealings!

While the owner was sporting a grin from ear to ear the Roques behind the desk were less than amused, having to wait with their usual bureaucratic duties until the very last of the wooly bunch was gone.

"Haha, he managed." The woman in front of Aster grinned at her companion, who shook his head.

"Idiot. Had he tried this weeks earlier, he would have lost every last sheep."

"He didn't try weeks earlier, now did he?" His wife retorted. The man fell silent again, still shaking his head.

Once Aster reached the desk beads of sweat were running down the head of a nervous youngster, possibly on duty for the first time. "Errrr....name, occupation, sir?"

The likewise uniformed man behind him bent down and whispered something. The youth sat up straight and nodded.

"Oh...and your reason for coming?" He glanced behind him to see if he had forgotten anything else when Aster burst out in song and dance. It left both occupants of the desk completely speechless for several flickers aferwards until

"Hahahahaha! Brilliant! Love it!" The standing Roque threw his head back in laughter, evoking a very relieved smile from his young companion at the desk. "That's smart....oh nether yes, that's smart. All the answers in one go and a song to go with it. Hahahaha! Never heard anything like it!"

People behind Aster were applauding now that the guards seemed pleased by the impromptu performance.

"But..sir...wha....what do I note down?" The poor youngster behind the desk felt the sweat running down his neck.

"Exactly what he said." The Roque answered. "Name, occupation and reason for visiting." He quickly took the quill and scribbled it on a piece of parchment before handing it over to Aster. "Careful with that, it's your pass. We'll ask for it whenever you're passing the gates. You planning on keeping this up in the streets, you'll need a permit."

[Aster Lu'ulnen]

"Errrr....name, occupation, sir? Oh...and your reason for coming?"

As he had given his merry little tune, Aster had smiled at the young man, recalling the first time he had ever felt stage fright. Of course, the young man’s stage fright carried with it a toll that Aster’s own had not – Aster was sure that not everyone who asked gained admittance and that the guards were not there simply as décor.

"Hahahahaha! Brilliant! Love it! That's smart....oh nether yes, that's smart. All the answers in one go and a song to go with it. Hahahaha! Never heard anything like it!"

Aster was relieved that the men, guards, and crowds were all pleased by the prose – it certainly beat jeering or rejection in the paperwork department and the slapping of open hands together in applause was most certainly was more welcome to the Adhiel than the slapping of closed fists across his face and body. Cautious not to ‘ham it up’, Aster performed four quick quarter-turns, each accompanied with a small bow of gratitude as the young guard and his supervisor spoke, accepting the pass with a smile and another small bow once the circle was completed.

"Careful with that, it's your pass. We'll ask for it whenever you're passing the gates. You planning on keeping this up in the streets, you'll need a permit."

“A per…mit… yes…” Aster repeated, tucking the pass away securely. “And I goes to other place or guild for it, or does you can makes one here?” The former eloquence of his speech was gone for the moment, having pretty much crammed his head with just enough common to pass off fairly simple conversations. Had he asked in Adhiel, he would have felt more comfortable and been able to word it better but, as it was, he had to go with what he knew even if it did make him sound foolish, thankful that he at least listened better than he spoke, as far as common was concerned.

The poem had been just as rough, in the beginning, and countless days of practice, combined with possibly help from fellow travelers who knew the tongue better than he had aided it to become the ‘final’ result. Soon, in time, his regular speech would surely follow, he hoped.[hr]"Mool-tee-pass..." - Leeloo, (The Fifth Element)[/hr]

[Syra]

The elaborate bow drew a grin from the others in the cue.

"A permit, yes." The nervous young Roque took over again under the watchful eye of his older companion. "You need to pay a fee at the office for a busking permit. That will allow you to play the streets. Now, if you are to perform inside, you'd need another kind of permit. Different once for theaters and for taverns and such. You can get more information once you get to the registration office in the merchants quarters."

A cough from behind made the man realize he could be more complete. "Uhm...you can find that by following the main road up. Close to the inner walls to your left there's the office. Do you..uhm...do you need anything else?"

ooc
Feel free to round it off whenever you are ready and create a new thread in the streets or an inn of choice Welcome to Roque!

[Aster Lu'ulnen]

Aster waited patiently while the younger man gave directions, following along mentally with guesswork as to the inner layout. When the directions concluded, Aster assumed, so had their business together.

"Thank you." Aster stated, keeping his reply as simple as possible. "Namaste, gentlemen." He gave another small bow of his head which seemed to echo ad infinitum as Aster turned to the side and made his way past the table and into the city, his head bobbing in almost perfect rhythm with his footsteps.[hr]OOC: Thanks. Sorry for the delay, btw - RL called and wouldn't leave a message at the beep.[/hr]