Troth - The New Sword - Reiker - Chyril 22nd

[Reiker]

Southern Shores - The Landing Cove - Entrance Thread
Sheer cliffs of ice and sharp stones surround it on either side, the frigid water lapping at the bases of the ships and rocks. Only skillful navigators can chart a path from the mouth of the cove across the shifting currents, hidden rocks, and drifting icebergs to the landing area. The landing area itself is marked only by a few tall wooden posts for docking and an array of narrow flags in a myriad of colors that were once bright, but have now faded pale and pulled to threads and ribbons by what seems to be a ceaseless icy wind.

There are several other boats docked along the pier, and the area bustles with people clambering across the jagged, snow-covered rocks near the water to the more solid, if frozen, land of the cove. The well-travelled visitor can recognize traders from nearly every inch of Tazlure, greeting familiar faces in a dazzling array of accents, exchanging details about the voyage, comparing prices and markets - or even cursing (in a low voice, of course) about the inhospitable weather and choppy seas of Trothgard.

Every exclamation is punctuated by a burst of foggy breath in the bitterly cold air.


Reiker walked the streets, ignoring the bustle that turned the docks into a flowing river of faces. Faces that didn't stop moving. They all looked the same to him.

The cold bit into his spine and he saw his breath turn into ghost-like vapors in front of him. He breathed in and felt the cold invade his lungs. It felt like ice was ground into fine bits that grazed his chest. He coughed, unused to the entirely different weather of Trothgard. Months spent in Dragonskeep and Sabata had accustomed him to so much heat, that he had forgotten the cold starving nights of his hometown. He looked around at the bustle about him. It reminded him of home alright. The place felt like famine with ice as the only nourishment.

He passed through corners and tried to look for the nearest pub. He kpept his eyes open for hanging tabbards that jut out from the walls. He found anvil signs, swords signs, but no signs depicting a mug or a lithe lady. He gave up and asked around. He was lucky not to ask the thugs. He would've been mincemeat once the local gangs discovered his freshness in this place. He had his blade strapped to is shoulder, covered in rags, that made him look like a man doomed for crucifixion. But, that wouldn't be enough to handle large numbers. Reiker fought numbers, but he was better fighting those numbers with men by his side.

The directions led him to an inn a long way from the docks. The bustle had died out here. Few walked the streets in this weather. He sighed in relief and opened the door. The warmth inside was comforting, like a blast of blankets suddenly wrapped around him. He rubbed his hands together and cursed. He wished he had thicker clothes.

The inn was lit in a haze of warm yellow light. It was a stark contrast against the crowd that served as patrons here. The people were gray of color and demeanor. Their eyes were narrow spears that cut through the thick light like a blade on paper. Reiker was liking the place already.

He sat down on a highstool and placed his forearms on the counter. He beckoned to the innkeeper for a drink. He asked for normal ale. The mug slid on the counter towards him and he almost spilled it when he caught it. He placed some coin on the table. He leaned over the counter and asked the innkeeper, "You know a place here looking for muscle sir?"

[Vanadius]

A long way from the docks indeed. Had he walked the distance, he might have frozen to death in the still cold spring of Trothgard.

What Reiker found very different from any other place he'd been before was the distance from the docks to anything that could be called a settlement. There was a little coachmen, by the name of Augir, that drove people in a tiny, rickety coach from the docks to the snowy, muddy streets of Rimmerhold. Augir said little and seemed to manage to hit every bump in the rutted track there, but got Reiker safely transported to his destination after nearly three marks. Walking it would have taken at least twice that long.

The inn was also very different. Rimmerhold had no traditional inns or taverns. Or there were places to drink and gather, but they were largely nondescript and clannish places. Indeed nearly everything in Rimmerhold seemed cliquish and withdrawn.

Reiker's inquiry brought a puzzled look from the innkeeper.

"Muscle? You're new here. The one thing the Kona has in ample supply is muscle. What she needs are warriors that can fight with their heads and minds as well. If you came to swing a sword for promise of circlets and banners to put in your pockets, you may want to finish that drink and ponder getting back on a boat. These people don't value riches the same way up here lad. They trade and barter in skins and furs and crystal if you can find it. I came up nearly six yahren ago, and I still have nearly the same amount of coin with me that I came with. It ain't gold they sell here, its death and glory."

The man refilled Reiker's ale with a wooden pitcher.

"Ask yourself why your really here before you set foot outside that door. If you came for blood, then you're in the right place. If you came for coin, then think about where your next will be and how long it will take to get there. Just a friendly piece of advice friend. I can see you hail from the south, you have that look about you. But this is Trothgard, and it will be unlike anything you've seen in the Empire or the West."

[Reiker]

Reiker hid a smiled behind the ale he sipped. He muttered beneath his breath, "That's why I came here."

He looked at the keeper with nuetral eyes and laid down his mug upon the counter. His smiled didn't finish until the mug left his hand. He licked his lips and said, "I'll fight for my keep. I'll fight for meat. I'll do even more than fight. I just need to stay in Troth, alive. I don't plan on staying here long, but I came here for a reason. Glory is ephemeral, I came here to learn and do something to reach what I want with my life. Can you point me at the right direction now?"

[Vanadius]

The keeper looked somewhat surprised at Reiker's response. He had seen many southlanders come ashore expecting to find quick riches or death in combat, but this stranger was the first to ever answer in such a fashion.

"There's a big meeting going on in the Great Hall. Something or someone has the Kona and her counselors all stirred up and they are meeting to discuss the best way to handle it. You won't be able to miss where it is, just turn left out of those doors and you'll see it."

The bartender looked from side to side, an old habit from his days as a innkeeper in the South.

"Between you and me friend. There's a lot of mystery surrounding this here fight. Some say its ghosts or spirits these women are fighting. Some say its daemons conjured up from the Nether. Whatever it is, I hope you're good with your weapons friend because in the yahren I've been here, I ain't seen nothing like this."

He gave Reiker a curt nod and went off to serve a few other of his customers.

[Reiker]

Reiker nodded and turned his back on the keeper. Good, he thought. I have directions now, places to start. Its time to start walking.

He walked out the doors, calmly, watching his steps and the whiteness that greeted him outside. He turned to his left, and followed what the man said. He'll find it soon enough.

[Vanadius]

OOC: Please join in the other thread entitled "Sanction"