The port of the Citadel was clearly added later, after the ancient ones finished building the city. It forms a small section just outside the concentric circles that form the city, with docks and warehouses dominating its looks. This port is the main port of the entire Empire, hence all tradehouses have their headquarters here.
There are, of course, several shipping docks, including the infamous Outlaws’ Warf. Day in to day out, an abundance of life comes into and leaves the docks. The Docks bring the world to the Citadel and makes her economy thrive; without them the Citadel would parish. The Docks serve for many purposes. Business at the docks is like clock work and there is an almost continuous stream of traffic between them and the city.
As ships approach they are directed to a slip at which time passengers may disembark. Looking down the rows of ships, there a many different types, brigs, galleons, schooners, all proudly resting in the water waiting to sail off to the next port of call. All except one. At the front of the pier, sitting proudly at the first slip rests a ship whose keel hovers feet above the surface of the water. An airship, she proudly flies flags of the Western Kingdom, from where she is the first to journey on a mission of trade.
The gates themselves are a scene of barely controlled chaos. Peddlers, beggers, sailors, and drunkards seem to mill about with no rhyme or reason. Those who had heard of the unparallelled efficeincy of the Ceaser`s Purple Guard who ran the gate are suprised to find it now run by the Blue Tabarded City Guard. Many of the uniforms are mismatched and stained, and the guard themselves mix an air of resignation and contempt as they question each person attempting to gain entry. The area in front of the gate is nearly always croweded. Still with enough patience, or a couple of well placed elbows, it is possible to get to the front of the line.
Krys Genouix is on duty at the gate today, and the irritable Achadhiel has already worked up a temper, despite the fact that it's only late morning...
Harbor Entrance (Chyril 23rd)
Moderator: Mods
Harbor Entrance (Chyril 23rd)
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
The air began to thicken as the ship approached The Citadel, it was alot more breathable then that of the open sea; atleast for Rhiel. The salty sea air was something very new to Rhiel, something he hoped he didn't have to grow accustom to. He had spent most of his travel bedside or head over the ships side, relieving his stomach of anything he had managed to keep down. Whether it was the sight of land or the knowledge that he'd be off the sea, Rhiel was ecstatic none the less. Before reaching the docks, Rhiel managed one more disgorge of water and stale bread. Time to retrieve my belongings... and change my tunic.
Finally, the ship had stopped and Rhiel was able to escape this wretched curse, this seasickness. Rhiel made his way down the ramp and onto the dock below, stumbling and tripping each step. It had been apparent the very little time Rhiel had actually stood or walked during the trip, had affected his first few steps. Quickly Rhiel gathered himself and made his way towards the Harbour Gates, where a frustrated looking Archadhiel stood guard.
Finally, the ship had stopped and Rhiel was able to escape this wretched curse, this seasickness. Rhiel made his way down the ramp and onto the dock below, stumbling and tripping each step. It had been apparent the very little time Rhiel had actually stood or walked during the trip, had affected his first few steps. Quickly Rhiel gathered himself and made his way towards the Harbour Gates, where a frustrated looking Archadhiel stood guard.
OOC: Welcome to the Citadel. Pardon the delay. Heavy partying kept me away.
It was a rather fast moving line, but it afford newcomers a bit of time to gaze over the city and perhaps awwwwww in awe at the sights before being allowed in. A mighty fortress from which the city got its name stood high up above the Harbor, the city spreading around it in circular pattern. Another curiosity was a peculiar looking ship, bobbing slowly in the harbor, moored next to several warships. The peculiar ship had a lot of extra parts and gadgets attached to it, and had a huge blimp floating over it, kept in place by an abundance of ropes.
A coach sped past, bearing the a crest topped by a crown, a troop of guards in white tabards, with black cloaks fluttering in the wind after them, riding as escort. To the side it moved towards a gate leading to countryside surrounding the city. It was then that Rhiel's turn came, irritated look on Krys' face telling a tale of a long string of boring travelers entering ahead of him. "I did not know girls grew beards." She leaned closer and peered at him. "That is a real beard and mustache? Not painted on?" Before an answer could come she added. "Alright, little girl, tell me your name, occupation, point of origin and what the Nether does a bearded lady plan to do in Citadel?"
It was a rather fast moving line, but it afford newcomers a bit of time to gaze over the city and perhaps awwwwww in awe at the sights before being allowed in. A mighty fortress from which the city got its name stood high up above the Harbor, the city spreading around it in circular pattern. Another curiosity was a peculiar looking ship, bobbing slowly in the harbor, moored next to several warships. The peculiar ship had a lot of extra parts and gadgets attached to it, and had a huge blimp floating over it, kept in place by an abundance of ropes.
A coach sped past, bearing the a crest topped by a crown, a troop of guards in white tabards, with black cloaks fluttering in the wind after them, riding as escort. To the side it moved towards a gate leading to countryside surrounding the city. It was then that Rhiel's turn came, irritated look on Krys' face telling a tale of a long string of boring travelers entering ahead of him. "I did not know girls grew beards." She leaned closer and peered at him. "That is a real beard and mustache? Not painted on?" Before an answer could come she added. "Alright, little girl, tell me your name, occupation, point of origin and what the Nether does a bearded lady plan to do in Citadel?"
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
OOC: Hah. I can't be mad for some heavy partying, though i'll admit I was beginning to think I posted in the wrong place.
"Excuse me?", Rhiel found himself beginning alot ruder then he intended. "My name is Rhiel Qqan, I am a student, I was birthed in Amun Rah and my business is my own." Rhiel felt a shot of anger course through him. Never had he been spoken to in such a manner, but he would not just sit here and take such abuse. From his time at home he'd been witty enough to retaliate on any verbal assault, he'd treat this no different. Reaching into his leather satchel he retrieved a shaving blade and began to offer it to the guard. "It apprears to me, peasant, that you are the female with a beard." It had been his first encounter with anyone outside of his home and not an enjoyable interaction. "Now, may I continue on? Or, Must I be further subjected to your temperamental query?"
Rhiel couldn't help but muster a sly grin. He wasn't at all positive he had made the right choice in provoking the guard, but at least it'd be entertainment to an early morning. He waited hand outstretched offering the guard the shaving blade.
"Excuse me?", Rhiel found himself beginning alot ruder then he intended. "My name is Rhiel Qqan, I am a student, I was birthed in Amun Rah and my business is my own." Rhiel felt a shot of anger course through him. Never had he been spoken to in such a manner, but he would not just sit here and take such abuse. From his time at home he'd been witty enough to retaliate on any verbal assault, he'd treat this no different. Reaching into his leather satchel he retrieved a shaving blade and began to offer it to the guard. "It apprears to me, peasant, that you are the female with a beard." It had been his first encounter with anyone outside of his home and not an enjoyable interaction. "Now, may I continue on? Or, Must I be further subjected to your temperamental query?"
Rhiel couldn't help but muster a sly grin. He wasn't at all positive he had made the right choice in provoking the guard, but at least it'd be entertainment to an early morning. He waited hand outstretched offering the guard the shaving blade.
Krys merely grinned at Rhiel's reply, first response coming not from her, but a small ratlike man sitting at the table a few paces away. "Hey, Krys, maybe you should check if its a girl. If it is, then I'd like to watch. If it's not then you can make him into one. I got me a blunt dagger in the chest back in the barracks." It was at that moment that the female guard slapped the shaving blade away, sending it clattering to the cobbles nearby, stepping closer and placing her hand over his crotch and fondling it gently. "It's a boy, Stu. Or at least it feels like one. Earrings got me fooled." She kept close, her hand massaging Rhiel's manhood with more and more insistence, the girl showing no shame in such a public display. She cast a quick glance at the man before her, turning to arch a brow at Stu. "What was that story you told me the other day? Some girl stuffing socks into her breeches to pass as a boy aboard a ship?" It was then that her hand savagely gripped Rhiel's sensitive parts and squeezed without mercy, her fingers digging into his flesh as her lips curled up into a vicious smile. It lasted but a flicker and then she let go, stepping back and stating matter-of-factly, leaving Rhiel to his agony. "It's a boy, Stu. I am certain. He ain't got socks in there. Something that rhymes with sock, but it ain't one." With that she sat down and looked up at the tortured Amunic man and asked once more. "Now, can you please repeat your name, occupation, point of origin and reason for visit. I forgot what you said before. Sorry." Her face was a picture of politeness, something not often seen around Krys, while the guards and quite a number of Rhiel's fellow travelers chuckled at his misfortune.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
His eyes were teary, his stomach knotted and his person violated. He all of a sudden felt seasick, on land. He fell to the cobble to gather himself. Anything to dissolve the undescribable pain. He gathered his shaving blade and placed it back into his satchel. So, this is what the world is like?
He rose from the cobblestone path and brushed himself off. Wiping away the tears he forced a smile as he looked at the female Achadhiel.
Please, forgive me. My name is Rhiel Qqan, I am a student, I was birthed in Amun Rah and my business is training at the University of Magick. I wish to study as a Battlemage.
Having absolutely nothing to say, Rhiel stood there, glaring sheepishly at Krys. The experience had been extremely humbling and being bested with physical action was foreign to Rhiel.
He rose from the cobblestone path and brushed himself off. Wiping away the tears he forced a smile as he looked at the female Achadhiel.
Please, forgive me. My name is Rhiel Qqan, I am a student, I was birthed in Amun Rah and my business is training at the University of Magick. I wish to study as a Battlemage.
Having absolutely nothing to say, Rhiel stood there, glaring sheepishly at Krys. The experience had been extremely humbling and being bested with physical action was foreign to Rhiel.
If one were to happen to look at Krys, there was no way to see in her expression any recollection of the savage assault she had committed. A pleasant smile, attentive eyes and friendly voice was what had greeted Rhiel upon his second approach. She wrote down the details with meticulously careful hand and looked up. "Very well then, Rhiel. Welcome to Citadel. You can find the University of Magick over there." He pointed with her thumb over the shoulder towards a number of spires visible over the rooftops. "Was there anything else you needed? Apart from fashion advice regarding your earrings?"
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
"No.. no, my good..", Rhiel paused unintentionally. "No, my lady. I have everything I need and then some. If you could, point me into the direction of the nearest inn. I have a need to rest my body."
Rhiel managed a smile, winking slightly at Krys.
"I'd also need to be pointed in the direction of the University. I am very unfamiliar with this area. I'd prefer not to be lost."
Rhiel managed a smile, winking slightly at Krys.
"I'd also need to be pointed in the direction of the University. I am very unfamiliar with this area. I'd prefer not to be lost."
Krys was a picture of helpfulness and polite behavior after the little incident involving her hand and Rhiel's sensitive bits, pain inflicted on another serving as a perfect way to relieve stress for the young woman. When the young man before her asked his questions she rose, and came close, putting her arm around his shoulder, partly to see if he would pull back in fear and partly to make sure he saw what she saw. Pointing down the street ahead she sought to explain. "Just head down this street. When you come upon the Marketplace turn right and you'll come across the Burpin Dragon." The Marketplace itself was readily visible from the gate, and Krys cast a glance at Rhiel to make sure he got it. "University is there as I said. Those spires are where it is located. Now, hobble along, I have work to do." With that she sat at her table and called out once more. "NEXT!"
OOC: Sorry it took this long. You are free to enter the city and do what you please inside. Have fun
OOC: Sorry it took this long. You are free to enter the city and do what you please inside. Have fun
Last edited by Grey Wolf on Fri Jul 13, 2007 8:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
Krys brought herself closer, to point Rhiel on his way. As she put her arm around him, he shuddered a bit, calming instantly as she spoke. She seemed a completely different individual now.
Marketplace, Burpin Dragon, Spires, University. Got it!
He made a mental note of everything that she said, though it was hardly necessary. From the gates, the marketplace was perfectly visible. The spires of the University, extremely hard to miss, even for someone blind.
"NEXT!" She shouted in his ear, though it was more from the high volume of her voice, then another direct assault.
He began to walk off as she directed him inwards. Turning on his heels, he looked at the Achadhiel once more.
"And, dear..", he began. "...don't forget to touch up the beard."
Without wasting another moment, he turned towards the entrance and took off in a full sprint. Giggling every other step.
OOC: Again, no problem.
Time to find some trouble 
Marketplace, Burpin Dragon, Spires, University. Got it!
He made a mental note of everything that she said, though it was hardly necessary. From the gates, the marketplace was perfectly visible. The spires of the University, extremely hard to miss, even for someone blind.
"NEXT!" She shouted in his ear, though it was more from the high volume of her voice, then another direct assault.
He began to walk off as she directed him inwards. Turning on his heels, he looked at the Achadhiel once more.
"And, dear..", he began. "...don't forget to touch up the beard."
Without wasting another moment, he turned towards the entrance and took off in a full sprint. Giggling every other step.
OOC: Again, no problem.
Time to find some trouble -
Guest
Aarin squinted against the light and stumbled as he stepped off the small ferry he'd travelled on for the trip from what had been Pan's Island to the Citadel. In part the trip was due to his surprise at the sight he saw, in part it was because he just was not at all good with boats. The last time the young, green eyed lad had been on a boat had been...now he thought about it, yahrens and yahrens back when he first WENT to Pan's Island. Funny how these things came around, wasn't it?
That time he'd been fleeing from the Westerners, now he was fleeing from the wreckage of the life he'd enjoyed so much to try and find some kind of meaning for it all. Fleeing tranquility, at times he still couldnt believe his own words, philosophically and theologically he was in a complete backwater, he hoped his time here could change that.
But then – here – where was here? It was a brand new place, this wasn't even World's Mouth where he might have had some slim, impossible small chance of catching up with the Achadheil who had helped him get free of that place, no, now he was in a completely foreign city after spending almost half his life among scholars and artists, what a way to return to a life he'd hoped to leave behind forever.
The war had scared him though, scared him rotten and as he looked across at the airship an involunterry shiver ran through him from head to toe as he drew his satchel closer to himself beneath his cloak and hunkered down in the crowd, moving along swiftly towards the gates.
Why the rush? Bother because of the airship and because he was tired, the first reminded him of all the reasons why he was here and the second meant he wasn't thinking straight or operating half as sharply as he'd like to be in such an alien place, both meant he needed a bed for the night to re-gather his thoughts before he began to plan what exactly he was going to do here and who he was going to talk to.
Still as Aarin Wildar approached the gates to the Citadel he had to admit some degree of surprise at the state of the place, whilst the docks were just docks he would have expected the guards to look a bit smarter, somehow one of his assumptions about the Empire had already been given a gentle prod; he'd thought they had done nothing about Pan's Island because they had no will to, given the state of the guards he re-evaluated the possibility that they had no ability, rather than no will...but then that was stupid. After all if they had no ability to do anything they would have been invaded by the West long ago and history told him otherwise, so he had to conclude he was merely seeing a side of the Citadel that belied the state of the city rather than of the empire – and given where his meager talents lay, having guards that couldn't afford good uniforms was probably a good thing for him.
Jostled and pushed as he was though Aarin did enjoy one irony in all this as he shoved and elbowed his way to the front of the queue; right now no-one was treating him differently, none of the hostility that had faced him from some quarters in the aftermath of the battle was evident here, he was just another person, shoving and pushing his way to the front and into the Citadel; that was a good omen, he had to take it as such, even if his trust in Pan and the entire Pantheon had been ruined he'd take an omen when he found one. Thus with his eyes wide open to opportunities as much as they could be given his tiredness and his senses a tingling with new sensations, Aarin Wildar pushed his way towards Citadel with fierce determination burning in his green eyes, hints of his Adhiel heritage for now beneath his long hair.
That time he'd been fleeing from the Westerners, now he was fleeing from the wreckage of the life he'd enjoyed so much to try and find some kind of meaning for it all. Fleeing tranquility, at times he still couldnt believe his own words, philosophically and theologically he was in a complete backwater, he hoped his time here could change that.
But then – here – where was here? It was a brand new place, this wasn't even World's Mouth where he might have had some slim, impossible small chance of catching up with the Achadheil who had helped him get free of that place, no, now he was in a completely foreign city after spending almost half his life among scholars and artists, what a way to return to a life he'd hoped to leave behind forever.
The war had scared him though, scared him rotten and as he looked across at the airship an involunterry shiver ran through him from head to toe as he drew his satchel closer to himself beneath his cloak and hunkered down in the crowd, moving along swiftly towards the gates.
Why the rush? Bother because of the airship and because he was tired, the first reminded him of all the reasons why he was here and the second meant he wasn't thinking straight or operating half as sharply as he'd like to be in such an alien place, both meant he needed a bed for the night to re-gather his thoughts before he began to plan what exactly he was going to do here and who he was going to talk to.
Still as Aarin Wildar approached the gates to the Citadel he had to admit some degree of surprise at the state of the place, whilst the docks were just docks he would have expected the guards to look a bit smarter, somehow one of his assumptions about the Empire had already been given a gentle prod; he'd thought they had done nothing about Pan's Island because they had no will to, given the state of the guards he re-evaluated the possibility that they had no ability, rather than no will...but then that was stupid. After all if they had no ability to do anything they would have been invaded by the West long ago and history told him otherwise, so he had to conclude he was merely seeing a side of the Citadel that belied the state of the city rather than of the empire – and given where his meager talents lay, having guards that couldn't afford good uniforms was probably a good thing for him.
Jostled and pushed as he was though Aarin did enjoy one irony in all this as he shoved and elbowed his way to the front of the queue; right now no-one was treating him differently, none of the hostility that had faced him from some quarters in the aftermath of the battle was evident here, he was just another person, shoving and pushing his way to the front and into the Citadel; that was a good omen, he had to take it as such, even if his trust in Pan and the entire Pantheon had been ruined he'd take an omen when he found one. Thus with his eyes wide open to opportunities as much as they could be given his tiredness and his senses a tingling with new sensations, Aarin Wildar pushed his way towards Citadel with fierce determination burning in his green eyes, hints of his Adhiel heritage for now beneath his long hair.
Last edited by Guest on Wed Jul 25, 2007 2:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Guest
Sorlas stepped off the boat uneasily all too aware of the package in his bag. He had no idea what was inside it, but he was relatively sure that it was something highly illegal at best. He had considered simply dumping the thing and leaving his childhood friend to his fate, but the thought of his friend's little girl crying over her daddy's body after the silver masked man killed him was enough to stiffen Sorlas' resolve.
Still the thought of the girl was not enough to make Sorlas feel more and more sick as he got closer to the gate. He covered his desire to throw up behind a too smooth and calm face. He quickly thought about his options and decided that the best thing to do was to lie, lie and lie some more. Whatever happened he had to make sure that the bag was not opened or else he was sure that he would not have a fun time on his first trip to Citadel.
"Gods," he murmured referring to the Pantheon, "I know that I have not been particularly devout in my devotion but if you could help me out of this mess I would be very grateful." Soon after Dorrin said this he could see a pretty pure white bird flying to him. But soon after he saw it was caught by a bigger bird that proceeded to carry it off. Sweat began to trickle down the back of Sorlas' neck when he was that, "that sign was either really good, or really bad" he murmured.
Still the thought of the girl was not enough to make Sorlas feel more and more sick as he got closer to the gate. He covered his desire to throw up behind a too smooth and calm face. He quickly thought about his options and decided that the best thing to do was to lie, lie and lie some more. Whatever happened he had to make sure that the bag was not opened or else he was sure that he would not have a fun time on his first trip to Citadel.
"Gods," he murmured referring to the Pantheon, "I know that I have not been particularly devout in my devotion but if you could help me out of this mess I would be very grateful." Soon after Dorrin said this he could see a pretty pure white bird flying to him. But soon after he saw it was caught by a bigger bird that proceeded to carry it off. Sweat began to trickle down the back of Sorlas' neck when he was that, "that sign was either really good, or really bad" he murmured.
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Guest
Seems to be a bit of an influx; I'd best join the party 
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It was with a slight sinking feeling, both real and affected, that Elissa made her way off the boat and onto the crowded harbour. She affected an air of dismay, ostensibly due to the excessive noice and bustle which resulted in more than a few people bumping past her and treading on the hem of her pale blue dress which forced her to hold close; in reality, though, her dismay was at the difficulty such an environment would present for her nocturnal escapades.
Back in Kislovan, you could burn down a farm and kill its inhabitants in the middle of the night and no-one would know about it for days. But here... here there were all too many witnesses, all too many eyes watching. She would have to devote herself to her studies, and try to keep her inner anguish at bay, despite being surrounded on all sides by the barbaric humans.
Chin high - as high as it could go, only about breast-height on most humans - she slowly worked her way through the crowd with the air of an Adhiel noblewoman, disrupted only slightly by the trolley of belongings she carried behind her and the occasional crowd surge which sent her stumbling. She wasn't going to elbow her way through; no, Elissan Lestelle would never do such a thing.
Elissa the Fire Lord, though... that was a different story.
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It was with a slight sinking feeling, both real and affected, that Elissa made her way off the boat and onto the crowded harbour. She affected an air of dismay, ostensibly due to the excessive noice and bustle which resulted in more than a few people bumping past her and treading on the hem of her pale blue dress which forced her to hold close; in reality, though, her dismay was at the difficulty such an environment would present for her nocturnal escapades.
Back in Kislovan, you could burn down a farm and kill its inhabitants in the middle of the night and no-one would know about it for days. But here... here there were all too many witnesses, all too many eyes watching. She would have to devote herself to her studies, and try to keep her inner anguish at bay, despite being surrounded on all sides by the barbaric humans.
Chin high - as high as it could go, only about breast-height on most humans - she slowly worked her way through the crowd with the air of an Adhiel noblewoman, disrupted only slightly by the trolley of belongings she carried behind her and the occasional crowd surge which sent her stumbling. She wasn't going to elbow her way through; no, Elissan Lestelle would never do such a thing.
Elissa the Fire Lord, though... that was a different story.
OOC: Woohoo. More vic..... Erm I mean visitors. Welcome to our neck of the woods.
There was an odd sort of order to the way people moved into the Citadel. A cluster formed in front of the gate, yet two clearly distinct lines moved forward every now and then, a pair of guards noting down the basics of each newly arrived traveler into the city. And odd couple they made, with one being a mouse of a man, with small, squinty eyes, set almost too narrow, darting this way and that with something akin to fear. Despite his eyes, he was no unattractive, though perhaps a bit on the dirty side. His partner was a woman, though she had a rather masculine look to her, down to her ear long hair. A scar upon her cheek did not make Krys ugly, faint white line marring her skin nonetheless, clearly visible due to a near constant scowl upon her face. She was the louder of the pair and one that seemed to enjoy making the travelers squirm for a bit before letting them in. Stu did his best to mimic her, but torture did not come so naturally to him.
It was Aarin's luck that Stu called out for the next person to step forward when the young achadhiel's turn came and the guard's eyes settled on his face, an impatient finger waving him forward. "Come on, I ain't got all day. Or rather I got it, but would rather spend it in the Mermaid. Alright. Let's make this short and brief. What's your name, and then I'll need your occupation, place of origin and reason why you came to Citadel?" He picked up a pen, his ink stained fingers telling a story of many such travelers already coming through, and then a guard in Stu made the little man raise his eyes and glance towards Aarin's satchel, before adding. "You ain't got nuthin' illegal in there do ye? Nothing that I should know about? Or rather I should not know about?"
Birds and omens aside, it was not important whether the catch had been real or imagined, what did matter was that Krys was working up a rather foul mood once more. Crushing that girlie boy's nuts did help for a little while, but there was only so much a girl could take. Damned travelers kept on coming along and if this kept on they would be busy till nightfall. She did not want to be busy till nightfall. With a withering glare and a something resembling a bark she called Sorlan over. "You there. Come closer and be swift about it." There was about a flicker of time before she went on, and yelled at the boy. "Faster, or I will throw you in the dungeon for obstruction of licensed officer in performing her duty." A smile spreading across her features was one of malice and evil intent. "Now, tell me, are you a girl or a boy? And then please be so kind to tell me your name and what you do for a living. You do know what work is? And then I would like to know what backwards hole of a dung pile you hail from? And why you are here and what reason you have to soil my beautiful city? Is that easy enough for you or to I have to spell it out word by word?"
Elissan was forced to endure a little longer, for even though there were almost a dozen guards on duty at the time, only Krys and Stu were working, the others standing idly about, looking fierce, or as fierce as they could. Pair of them stood nearby and they were busy chuckling in private, though their voices were loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Did you see the look on his face when Krys grabbed the poor sod? The moment she became sickeningly sweet, I knew she was up to something. A girl might have gotten away with it, but a man..... No way." A bit farther, past the gate another group of people lazed about in the spring sun, wearing rather shabby looking tabards that might have been purple a while ago. Bloody red palm prints on their chests were fresh as was the rather ugly scar upon the largest of them. The man was missing the entire left side of his nose, the nostril cleanly sliced off, the edge of the cut smooth and slightly red.
OOC: I have added a satchel with message for Sorlan and will add the mask for Elissan
There was an odd sort of order to the way people moved into the Citadel. A cluster formed in front of the gate, yet two clearly distinct lines moved forward every now and then, a pair of guards noting down the basics of each newly arrived traveler into the city. And odd couple they made, with one being a mouse of a man, with small, squinty eyes, set almost too narrow, darting this way and that with something akin to fear. Despite his eyes, he was no unattractive, though perhaps a bit on the dirty side. His partner was a woman, though she had a rather masculine look to her, down to her ear long hair. A scar upon her cheek did not make Krys ugly, faint white line marring her skin nonetheless, clearly visible due to a near constant scowl upon her face. She was the louder of the pair and one that seemed to enjoy making the travelers squirm for a bit before letting them in. Stu did his best to mimic her, but torture did not come so naturally to him.
It was Aarin's luck that Stu called out for the next person to step forward when the young achadhiel's turn came and the guard's eyes settled on his face, an impatient finger waving him forward. "Come on, I ain't got all day. Or rather I got it, but would rather spend it in the Mermaid. Alright. Let's make this short and brief. What's your name, and then I'll need your occupation, place of origin and reason why you came to Citadel?" He picked up a pen, his ink stained fingers telling a story of many such travelers already coming through, and then a guard in Stu made the little man raise his eyes and glance towards Aarin's satchel, before adding. "You ain't got nuthin' illegal in there do ye? Nothing that I should know about? Or rather I should not know about?"
Birds and omens aside, it was not important whether the catch had been real or imagined, what did matter was that Krys was working up a rather foul mood once more. Crushing that girlie boy's nuts did help for a little while, but there was only so much a girl could take. Damned travelers kept on coming along and if this kept on they would be busy till nightfall. She did not want to be busy till nightfall. With a withering glare and a something resembling a bark she called Sorlan over. "You there. Come closer and be swift about it." There was about a flicker of time before she went on, and yelled at the boy. "Faster, or I will throw you in the dungeon for obstruction of licensed officer in performing her duty." A smile spreading across her features was one of malice and evil intent. "Now, tell me, are you a girl or a boy? And then please be so kind to tell me your name and what you do for a living. You do know what work is? And then I would like to know what backwards hole of a dung pile you hail from? And why you are here and what reason you have to soil my beautiful city? Is that easy enough for you or to I have to spell it out word by word?"
Elissan was forced to endure a little longer, for even though there were almost a dozen guards on duty at the time, only Krys and Stu were working, the others standing idly about, looking fierce, or as fierce as they could. Pair of them stood nearby and they were busy chuckling in private, though their voices were loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Did you see the look on his face when Krys grabbed the poor sod? The moment she became sickeningly sweet, I knew she was up to something. A girl might have gotten away with it, but a man..... No way." A bit farther, past the gate another group of people lazed about in the spring sun, wearing rather shabby looking tabards that might have been purple a while ago. Bloody red palm prints on their chests were fresh as was the rather ugly scar upon the largest of them. The man was missing the entire left side of his nose, the nostril cleanly sliced off, the edge of the cut smooth and slightly red.
OOC: I have added a satchel with message for Sorlan and will add the mask for Elissan
Last edited by Grey Wolf on Fri Jul 27, 2007 2:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
Sorlas did not like bullies and he repressed his natural desire to deal with her. If he was in anyother situation he would start giving answers designed to anger her but thoughts of his friend, and capital punishment (mostly the latter) gave him strong motivation to simply answer her in such a way that would get him past the gate and into the city in the shortest time possible.
"I am a male and my name is Sorlas Lorin. I come from Dort." And now Sorlas was about to take the biggest risk he had ever taken. He had thought about his story numerous times but one flaw always kept coming up, he was not that good of a liar. But he remembered that someone told him that the best way to lie, was to tell part of the truth, and then be quiet. "Currently I work as a messenger, I was hired to deliver a package to Baron Marcada"
Sorlas knew that the statement would decide whether he was allowed in or put into chains. He hadn't had time to brush up on how powerful the Baron's were, but he guessed that a commoner would not want to interfere with a Baron's business. Unless the Baron was famous for all the wrong reasons, in which case Sorlas might as well have just sent himself to jail.
"I am a male and my name is Sorlas Lorin. I come from Dort." And now Sorlas was about to take the biggest risk he had ever taken. He had thought about his story numerous times but one flaw always kept coming up, he was not that good of a liar. But he remembered that someone told him that the best way to lie, was to tell part of the truth, and then be quiet. "Currently I work as a messenger, I was hired to deliver a package to Baron Marcada"
Sorlas knew that the statement would decide whether he was allowed in or put into chains. He hadn't had time to brush up on how powerful the Baron's were, but he guessed that a commoner would not want to interfere with a Baron's business. Unless the Baron was famous for all the wrong reasons, in which case Sorlas might as well have just sent himself to jail.
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Guest
“Nothing in here, sir. My name is Aarin Wildar.â€
Aarin said politely to Stu as he beat the questions to the start line by unbuckling his satchel, looking down briefly with a green eyes flicker into his satchel. For now those eyes were mellow, calm, unsuspicious and a fair window into Aarin's soul as the Achadhiel revealed the contents of his satchel, which was a simple enough affair.
“Just some books and my worldly possessions, look if you like.†Aarin offered and explained, smiling wanly at Stu. “I am a scholar, traveled from what used to be called Pan's Isle.†Now came the truth, however lacking in actual accuracy.
“I was documenting the worship of Pan at the coming of the Onelings. However.â€
Aarin shrugged, the true part of his story ironic, the lie merely being that he'd been – studying – Pan, he'd actually been learning about all kinds of things but a travelling scholar who had been visiting was a fair enough story.
“There's no more real cult of Pan there so my research is done, i'm here in Citadel to find something else to write about. Is there anything else I can help you with?â€
He asked simply, apparantly unworried by the guard – and indeed he wasn't, his only dangerous items was his lockpicking equipment which he'd sewed carefully into the hem of the lining of his cloak before he had left... Now whilst it was possible the guard would stop him and rip his clothing apart to find it, if Stu was going to pick him out to do that then he doubted there was very much he could do at all to avoid being found out in possession of the items, but given the man's attitude he seemed so bored that stopping one scholar to turn out his cloak didn't seem likely.
Aarin said politely to Stu as he beat the questions to the start line by unbuckling his satchel, looking down briefly with a green eyes flicker into his satchel. For now those eyes were mellow, calm, unsuspicious and a fair window into Aarin's soul as the Achadhiel revealed the contents of his satchel, which was a simple enough affair.
“Just some books and my worldly possessions, look if you like.†Aarin offered and explained, smiling wanly at Stu. “I am a scholar, traveled from what used to be called Pan's Isle.†Now came the truth, however lacking in actual accuracy.
“I was documenting the worship of Pan at the coming of the Onelings. However.â€
Aarin shrugged, the true part of his story ironic, the lie merely being that he'd been – studying – Pan, he'd actually been learning about all kinds of things but a travelling scholar who had been visiting was a fair enough story.
“There's no more real cult of Pan there so my research is done, i'm here in Citadel to find something else to write about. Is there anything else I can help you with?â€
He asked simply, apparantly unworried by the guard – and indeed he wasn't, his only dangerous items was his lockpicking equipment which he'd sewed carefully into the hem of the lining of his cloak before he had left... Now whilst it was possible the guard would stop him and rip his clothing apart to find it, if Stu was going to pick him out to do that then he doubted there was very much he could do at all to avoid being found out in possession of the items, but given the man's attitude he seemed so bored that stopping one scholar to turn out his cloak didn't seem likely.
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Guest
The wait irked Elissa somewhat, but she suppressed that irritation sternly. There was nothing to be done about it for a moment, so she would simply have to bear with it. The rough appearances and manners of the guards put her slightly ill at ease, but she was reassured by one of their remarks that suggested women would get it a little easier from "Krys", whichever one that was.
She would wait the line out for now, but hoped very much it would get a move on.
She would wait the line out for now, but hoped very much it would get a move on.
"Male by his own admission. Sorlas Lorin, Dort." With the same mocking smile and a slight mocking undertone to her voice, Krys repeated each bit of information as she wrote it down, even the part about Sorlas being male. It was the last bit that got her attention, her head rising swiftly to look into the young man's eyes, before glancing over her shoulder to the warehouse a bit down the street leading up into the city. It was huge in comparison to others and a steady stream of wagons and people kept moving in and out of it. "Alright, Sorlas. You have earned yourself the right to pass. That there is the Imperial Trading Guild Warehouse, but from what I hear the Baron won't be there today. He is getting married to the Mouthie Ambassador. Just ask for directions in the Guild Warehouse. Any other questions?" Then even before he could reply she yelled "NEXT!" and it was Elissan's turn.
Stu did in fact rise and poked through the satchel with a finger, shifting its contents around, but did not examine it in detail, taking his seat once more and noting down the information Aarin provided. "Its not Onelings, but Oneists and it is Aveas now, not Pan's Isle. Quite a bother. Anyhow. You can go to the Gaol and see if there is room for another man on the City Watch, though I am not sure if we are still recruiting. And there ain't no Cult of Pan here either. After the Caesar was murdered, Imperial Secretary saw fit to interrogate them to reveal their involvement in the plot. Most Panlings left the Citadel afterwards. Those that could still walk that is."
It was Elissan that had the fortune, or was it misfortune to meet Krys' eyes as the nasty lady guard tapped her fingertips again the table's surface. "Come on, elfie. Ain't got the whole day. I'll need your name, your occupation, point of origin and reason for visit. And I can see you are a girl from over here, since those two look way too good to be just rags stuffed to resemble breasts. So skip the 'I'm a girl' and get to the point."
OOC: You are free to post within the city Sorlas. If you have any questions Pm me and I shall do my best to reply to them
Stu did in fact rise and poked through the satchel with a finger, shifting its contents around, but did not examine it in detail, taking his seat once more and noting down the information Aarin provided. "Its not Onelings, but Oneists and it is Aveas now, not Pan's Isle. Quite a bother. Anyhow. You can go to the Gaol and see if there is room for another man on the City Watch, though I am not sure if we are still recruiting. And there ain't no Cult of Pan here either. After the Caesar was murdered, Imperial Secretary saw fit to interrogate them to reveal their involvement in the plot. Most Panlings left the Citadel afterwards. Those that could still walk that is."
It was Elissan that had the fortune, or was it misfortune to meet Krys' eyes as the nasty lady guard tapped her fingertips again the table's surface. "Come on, elfie. Ain't got the whole day. I'll need your name, your occupation, point of origin and reason for visit. And I can see you are a girl from over here, since those two look way too good to be just rags stuffed to resemble breasts. So skip the 'I'm a girl' and get to the point."
OOC: You are free to post within the city Sorlas. If you have any questions Pm me and I shall do my best to reply to them
Last edited by Grey Wolf on Tue Jul 31, 2007 11:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
Though Elissan’s back stiffened slightly at the guard’s coarse manner, she kept herself outwardly calm as she pushed her way the last foot towards the guardswoman. She still kept a little way back, though; the closer she was the more she would have to crane her neck up to meet her gaze, something which made her uncomfortable.
“My name is Elissan Lestelle,†she replied cooly but briskly. “I am from Kislovan, a daughter of the house of Lestelle. My occupation is soon to be a student of the University of Magic, which is similarly the purpose of my visit.â€
“My name is Elissan Lestelle,†she replied cooly but briskly. “I am from Kislovan, a daughter of the house of Lestelle. My occupation is soon to be a student of the University of Magic, which is similarly the purpose of my visit.â€
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Guest
“From Aveas then.†Aarin said with a wan smile. “I suppose i'll just have to find something else to write about other than Panling's then won't I? But then Citadel is a large place, I'm sure there will be no shortage of topics.â€
As to the man's advice the City Watch seemed as good a place as any to start and make connections both official and unofficial, he wasn't particularly worried about getting associated with the law to start with since by all rights City Watches weren't the most stable and law abiding of institutions to begin with.
“My thanks for your advice.†He said at last. “Am I free to continue?†Aarin asked politely, planning to go straight to the gaol and inquire before he made himself at home.
As to the man's advice the City Watch seemed as good a place as any to start and make connections both official and unofficial, he wasn't particularly worried about getting associated with the law to start with since by all rights City Watches weren't the most stable and law abiding of institutions to begin with.
“My thanks for your advice.†He said at last. “Am I free to continue?†Aarin asked politely, planning to go straight to the gaol and inquire before he made himself at home.
Every little bit of information was noted in the notebook, the female guard lifting her head at the mention of Kislovan and tilting her head, but saying nothing, simply snorting in something akin to contempt. Only one field in the roughly drawn table upon the paper remained to be filled, one with Krys' signature when she lowered the pen and looked up. "Eh, another mage? Like we don't have enough of those around. Where were you last night when the Banner burned down? kept your nose in some book?" Smiling a smile that could not be called pleasant she added, as she crossed her hands behind the head. "So, tell me Elissan.... Why should I let you into Citadel? Do you deserve to be inside?"
"You are welcome." The reply caused a few of the guards nearby to cast a glance at Stu, but they said nothing. Those who knew the guardsmen might notice how his hair was neatly combed, and the kerchief tied around his neck did not have the greasy stains upon it anymore. "And yes. You are free to go. Good luck and obey the law." With that over he looked up and summoned the next traveler forth.
"You are welcome." The reply caused a few of the guards nearby to cast a glance at Stu, but they said nothing. Those who knew the guardsmen might notice how his hair was neatly combed, and the kerchief tied around his neck did not have the greasy stains upon it anymore. "And yes. You are free to go. Good luck and obey the law." With that over he looked up and summoned the next traveler forth.
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
Elissan wasn't sure if she could tilt her chin up more cooly than she way already; but regardless as to whether or not it was possible, she did so anyway, voice chilled slightly.
"I was not buried away in some book; I was not even on the island. Hence why I am currently standing outside the Citadel, at the Harbour. My place is inside because I am not one for standing by idly with my head buried in the sand as events go on around me; were I at this Banner place last night then I would have done everything in my power to avert the fire."
Elissan was sorely tempted to list her intentions at a broader education and training, as well as her pre-existing martial skill, as further reasons why she should be allowed entry, but knew that would be counter-productive to her ultimate goals. Being trained as an assassin is not something that should be widely advertised, and she intended to keep it a secret.
"I was not buried away in some book; I was not even on the island. Hence why I am currently standing outside the Citadel, at the Harbour. My place is inside because I am not one for standing by idly with my head buried in the sand as events go on around me; were I at this Banner place last night then I would have done everything in my power to avert the fire."
Elissan was sorely tempted to list her intentions at a broader education and training, as well as her pre-existing martial skill, as further reasons why she should be allowed entry, but knew that would be counter-productive to her ultimate goals. Being trained as an assassin is not something that should be widely advertised, and she intended to keep it a secret.
Ankles followed her hands as Krys crossed then under the table, showing no sign of even listening to Elissan's words, whistling some tune low, her eyes following a seagull in its flight high above. Examining the nails on her hand, she tossed in an off-handed manner. "Oh, really? And would your Imperial Highness be so kind as to share just what she would have done at the Banner to prevent the fire? I am sure us mere mortals would love to hear how she would have stopped a brothel from burning? And even more importantly, what you were doing there in the first place?" Here Krys glanced at the girl before her and grinned. "You fancy girls more than boys?"
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.
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Guest
"Rest assured, any uncertainty as to my sexual preference was extinguished very quickly upon meeting you," Elissan replied with a condescending smile. "Your attacks upon my ignorance as to the nature of the Banner are both tiresome and ineffectual; unless there is anything further, I would appreciate it if we concluded this business as soon as possible."
Elissan knew that an antagonistic approach towards the guardswoman was probably not the best way of gaining entry, but she was getting more than a little irritated by her cocky rudeness. It was with a growing amount of self-control that she had to keep a polite, if frigid, smile on her face, as opposed to leaping over the desk and throttling the woman.
Elissan knew that an antagonistic approach towards the guardswoman was probably not the best way of gaining entry, but she was getting more than a little irritated by her cocky rudeness. It was with a growing amount of self-control that she had to keep a polite, if frigid, smile on her face, as opposed to leaping over the desk and throttling the woman.
Krys' eyes swung quickly from her nails which she was examining in an effort to show her indiference, just as he legs swung under her and launched the guardswoman onto her feet. In two swift strides she was before the adhiel girl and leaned closer, looming over her, a rather rare occurrence for a short achadhiel blond. "You don't like me? Am I ugly? Is that what......" She grinned evilly, but then a voice called from the side, and she stopped and glanced angrily, snorting in derision. "That's enough, Krys. You've had your fun. Now, let her go." The man was tall, though not incredibly so, and had a lithe body, and a set of bars on his sleeve. He said no more and Krys, turned agnrily at Elissan after a flicker or so and all but spat. "This ain't over. I'll see you around." Turning on her heel and going back to the table, she yelled on the top of her lungs. "NEXT!" The man smiled at the adhiel girl and shrugged. "You are free to go, miss. I fear you have caught Krys in a bad mood. Or rather he usual mood."
The diplomacy is the art of saying "Good dog", while you are searching for a big rock.