The Great Parhn Gate

[Limbo]

20th Zi’da, 716
18th Break

Boarding that damned ship had been a mistake. Improvisation had lead him astray, forced into a path of troubles he’d try to avoid from now on. Ne’haer’s conflicts scared the Mortalborn, for the premise of war was certainly not appealing. Suspicions were high, and his peers were less receptive to his approaches. Traveling by land would’ve been far more dangerous than the boat, true, yet a long voyage at high sea was comparable to being stabbed. Having been stabbed in the past, he was right to make said remark. The settlement he now approached was also at war, yet its situation had proven to be far more manageable, and according to the tales regarding it, Etzos would perhaps be a location he would not try to flee right away.

The cold was enough terror, yet the hunger was also creeping into Kovic’s list of problems. Having expected to board directly within the city, his surprise had been maximal once another set of trials was needed to traverse the river. Working for transportation was easy; no coin, however, meant no chance of buying food, and the guarded river did not allow him to hunt. Complaining was mandatory. No grandiose statues, guards, nor enormous gates could steal his attention from his needs. Security was heavy, and so Kovic was kept secure on his mental leash.
“You there,” beckoned one of the guards, armed with quill and parchment. “Welcome to the city of Etzos. Name?”
“Ynush,” replied Kovic, not even bothering to make a good impression.
“Reason for you visit?”
“Life.”
“Right,” replied the guard, eyeing the male somewhat suspiciously. He scribbled something on said parchment. “Any previous visits?”
“No.”
“Public worship or religious practices are strictly forbidden.” The guard eyed Kovic, which carried nothing but his ill-fitted clothing with him. It was suspicious, indeed, but refugees were many these days. “Do you require any directions?”
“No. Can I go in?”
“Do you suffer any illness?” Silence. The guard’s eyes fixed on the male.
“No,” replied Kovic, still refusing to meet the guard’s eyes.
The guard looked over his shoulder, and pointed towards Kovic. Misfortune struck again, for two guards quickly approached the vagabond.
“Hold still, you,” said one of them, as he captured one of Kovic’s arms.
The second guard captured the opposite limb. Then, he pressed his sole against Kovic’s knee pit, effectively bringing him down to his knees.
“What is this? I’m not ill!” replied Kovic, trying to struggle in vain.
“Hold still,” repeated the guard before him, whom captured the parchment between his legs and the quill with his lips. He rose Kovic’s chin, moving it to the sides as he inspected his eyes. “Open your mouth.”
“I told you I’m not ill!”
“Sure.” The guard now pressed his thumbs just below Kovic’s ears, effectively forcing his mouth open. Then, he contorted the Mortalborn’s head so that light could allow him to better inspect Kovic’s maws. A few moments later, the guard let him go, and so did his partners. “You’re not ill,” he confirmed.
Kovic stood up, perhaps a bit too aggressively, almost as if he was about to jump the guard. Obviously, that did not happen, but his hunger had made him fathom the possibility.
"You may enter the city,” announced the guard, which recovered his quill and parchment with utmost calm. “Stay out of trouble.”

The gates opened, and the Mortalborn quickly made his way inside, hoping his meal awaited for him in some alley.

[Conrath]

Timestamp: 1th of Cylus - Rebirth Cycle - 717th AV

What a lame day, he had spent most of the day roaming the Farmland Plains near Etzos to chart the territory, extremely crudely as it has been first attempt at doing so, ever. The most important aspect of the landmark charting was to track and trace certain fields and flowerbeds in the hopes that he'll be able to purchase a journal of sorts from a herbalist or craftsman in Etzos with more detailed information regarding toxic flora near Etzos. Even though he knows the basics of poisoncrafting and distilling, he still lacks the knowledge to be a more independant artisan or even to get noticed by an established crafter to become his apprentice.

But considering his lack of expertise in charting, drawing, fieldcraft and pretty much any relevant skills to complete this endeavour adequatly...It was a waste of time, to put it kindly. To add insult to injury, he had gotten lost in the fields of Farmland Plains and the map had instantly proven to be as useful as a gigantic pile of shyke. Once he finally found his way back, approaching the Great Parhn Gate, he got halted by a particularly aggravating guardsman who seemed to be new-blood in Etzos considering the vigor he showed in his duties as a gatekeeper. Asking question after question as if Conrath wasn't an Etzos' citizen for over a decade by now.

"Alright, come on in. But don't cause any trouble y'hear."

"Right...Right..."

[Inali]

68th Trial of Ashan, 717th Arc
Just outside the Great Pahrn Gate

Slightly above Inali's right shoulder, the Memory Globe of Thetros hung suspended in the air, repeating the memory of her journey out of Ne'haer. It continued this pattern, refreshing the memory ceaselessly until she willed it to stop. The globe depicted the journey through Inali's void white eyes, displaying images of Rorom's sloop pushing off the grey sand beach as they began their journey to Rhakros. The Biqaj man smiled at her and gestured to the various parts of the vessel before the memory faded and began repeating once more.

As Inali glimpsed the open gates of Etzos for the first time, she pondered all the reasons that she had left Ne'haer. The city was her home - far more so than Viden had ever been. The citizens of Ne'haer had welcomed her and provided her with endless opportunities to learn and grow. In turn, she had embraced their culture and spent most of her free breaks at the docks and market stalls. The experience had uncovered a side of herself that she had never witnessed in the cold of the north. She could be a scholar and an explorer. Ne’haer had afforded her the chance to try and fail without worry about whether her academic reputation would be irrevocably damaged in the process. While her kin would claim that the city had made her ‘more human’, Inali was proud of all she had accomplished.

While her heart pulled her back to Ne’haer, she was too well known after the Thetros incident. She had hoped to hide and wait until her name faded from the collective memory of the city, but the globe was easy to recognize and the repentant Rigo Zyl'Amaq mentioned Ilied, Inali, and Niv by name in his trial.

She was entirely convinced that Etzos would provide anonymity and a fresh start. After a few seasons of research and investigation, she could always return to the warm waters of Lake Rea if she desired it.

After an additional half break of walking, the fortress of Etzos opened up directly before her, and Inali did her best not to stare at the enormous statue that dominated the center of the large courtyard. Before she could move forward to find a plaque or description, a guard approached her with a stack of parchment and quill pen. He eyed her globe warily, and Inali sighed inwardly, wondering if he would accuse her of magic use before she made her way to the city center. Outwardly, she smiled, and awaited the guard’s commands. When he asked for her information, she responded in Common,

"My name is Inali. I am a scholar from Ne'haer, seeking to teach others the languages I know. I am familiar with Rakahi, Xanevic, the Ancient Tongue, Lorien..."

She trailed off as the guard had already stopped scribbling. She continued,

"I haven't been to Etzos before. As far as valuable items... I've only got this globe and some research books. The globe isn't magic - it simply records my memories and plays them back,"

She gestured at the memory that was playing,

"It's very useful for a scholar, as you can imagine. It was a gift."

The Eidisi paused for a moment, hoping that her explanation would be good enough. It had been a gift, but she was wary of explaining that Thetros had been the gift giver. Would the guard attempt to take it from her? She willed the globe to stop playing the memory and it returned to its dormant state - a simple clear sphere that swirled with undulating grey mists.

"In addition, I will not openly worship any Immortals. I understand the Etzori policy on this and support it fully."

Whether the guard could imagine the various uses of the Memory Globe was unclear. He simply stared at the sphere and scrawled down a few more notes. A sharp scratch on the paper denoted an underline somewhere on the page. Something akin to paranoia gripped her and she spoke up,

"Am I free to go? Can you help me find someone who can assist me with housing within the city?"

The guard nodded and provided her with directions, pointing with his free hand. Inali thanked him and forced herself to walk forward as gooseflesh rippled across her neck. She had the feeling that the guards’ eyes were on her back as she moved past him, but she continued onward, happy to be through with the ordeal. As she continued towards the Office of the Citizen’s Committee, a small messenger boy darted out from behind her and continued running down the street with a piece of parchment clutched in his hand.

[Maltruism]

► Show Spoiler

OOC: I don't usually put responses to these posts, and when I do, it is not initiate an further response. But sometimes a scenario is presented that gives me an opportunity to establish the way similar situations would be handled.

The guard watched the boy tear down the street. There was no reason for the white-eyed woman to suspect that it involved her. But the child knew the streets far better than the newcomer, 'Regardless of how smart she is.' he smirked ungraciously.

'If she was half as smart as she thinks she is, she'd have left that Immortal's tool somewhere outside the walls.' he sneered to his fellow gatesman. They shared a laugh. It was not as if she'd be accosted and lynched for possessing such a thing. Though, if it should turn out to be of more power than she let on, that could well be the result.

Eidisi mages were the focus of much ugliness right now, and there would be some that would not wait for confirmation of their paranoid suspicions before acting. The boy would inform Mr. Tagley at the Guidance Office to be on the lookout for her. His was one of the three offices at the 'OCC' where she was headed. He was known to have "connections".

"Let it be his problem. He can decide how he wants to handle it." the two gatesmen agreed.

[Doran]

Ashan 40, Arc 717

The son of Ziell had left Andaris, the city where he had been born and where his only child had been buried at the beginning of the season. He had briefly considered embarking on the journey to Etzos earlier than that, but had ultimately come to the conclusion that travelling during Cylus, when the whole world was shrouded in darkness, would be too dangerous. Besides, there were a few things that he had still had to take care of before he disappeared from the place that he had once called home, possibly forever, to continue what he had begun in Vhalar, in the frozen wasteland of Oscillus.

He had constantly been on his guard. He had slept with his sword next to him and exchanged few words with the mortals that had occasionally joined him. Without a doubt they had thought him strange, perhaps mentally disturbed to some extent. Sometimes he wondered what they would have said if he had told him that he had stabbed an Immortal and received another one’s blessing, and that he had already spent close to four centuries in this world even though he didn’t look a trial past thirty. Would they have believed him or made fun of him because his story was just too far-fetched?

A part of him, he realized as the gate came into view, had not thought that he would make it that far, at least not without a fight, but he had encountered few troubles. His enemies didn’t seem to have any idea where he had gone after he had left Treidhart. Not even his father had confronted him, a fact that disappointed him to some extent even though a meeting would likely have ended with one or both of them dead or cursed. Apparently his assessment of Ziell’s character had been correct.

The Immortal of Winter was a weakling and a coward.

He briefly stopped in front of the large stone statue and gazed at the city’s founder, as if he were greeting him, before he approached the guards. He didn’t grin at them or smile at them – he had no interest in such behaviour – but his sword was sheathed now, and he had brushed the dust off his clothes, dark wool and leathers that were more suitable for a lengthy journey than the elegant suits that he normally preferred. Despite the fact that he was tired to some extent, he held himself completely straight.

He would never show any kind of weakness, especially not in front of people like these, even though he needed their help.

He answered their questions of course, stated his name, and that he was a scholar and a swordsman from Rynmere that sought to meet with certain individuals, even though it seemed ridiculous to him.

He had thought that people that opposed the Immortals would pay more attention to what was happening in the world and not simply let him into their city, as if he were a random stranger. Or maybe, he considered, as he stood there and waited for some sort of reaction to his arrival, they were simply taking their time and trying to decide how to best deal with this situation?

OOC: Continues here.

[Ini'ra]

The Great Parhn Gate
1st of Ashan, 717

She stared at the clearing for a long time and the forest that had been surrounding it, feeling a pain of homesickness and disappointment. There had been so many trees here, why did they cut them down? Could they not live amongst nature? Dragging her trunk behind her, she felt her nerves ignite with every step they took, approaching the city and the guards prowling outside. It reminded her of a pack of wolves and they quickly moved down the line. She listened intently, heart pounding as she felt Rafik'ki shift around in the pocket of her cloak.

"Name?"

The young Sev'ryn girl jumped slightly, face burning as she looked up at the intimidating man. He had a quill and a piece of parchment in his hand and she nodded. She knew this word, "Ini'ra", she said, trying to enunciate her speech so it didn't sound so foreign.

Needless to say, he didn't care, "Reason for coming?"

She thought to Aiserism and then what she had overheard the man say to another traveler.: "Leave your immortals at the door". Telling them now she wanted to share Moseke's light would get her into trouble. But if she didn't get into the city... she would never be able to do what she came for! "To help. Find job. Care for sick. Feed hungry." There were all practices of her religion, and a non-religious person could do just the same. Surely this was a safe answer?

The guard eyed her, looking as though he didn't quite believe the whole altruistic thing, but continued down his list, "Previous visits?"

Ini'ra strained for a second, cocking her head. Only partially sure what he was asking, she smiled brightly, "No, first time. So much stone."

"Do you have anything of value?"

She furrowed her brow. "What? My common is no good."

The man sighed, his patience running out, and he nodded towards the chest she had been dragging, "Open it."

Ini'ra looked around. No one else had to open their belongings... Her cheeks burned and she felt nervous again, undoing the clasps and stepping aside for them to look through her things. A number of kitchen items, blankets rolled tightly, some toiletries and a book. The man flipped it open, staring at the Xanthea on the page before squinting and noticing the measurements. Recipes. Nothing valuable. He threw the stuff down and nodded at the only thing perhaps worth anything - the longbow on her back.

"You're Sev'ryn. I can tell by the book, so I'm going to make this very clear for you," he finished his writing and stepped forward, towering over the small woman, "You will not publicly worship your immortals here. Leave 'em at the door. You don't have to be opposed to 'em, but no one wants to hear it. You understand me?"

Ini'ra wasn't exactly sure what the word opposed meant, but his tone was clear. No immortals. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, the question she desperately wanted to ask evident on her face but she simply nodded. 'But why? It made no sense to her! What bad could Moseke do? Disheartened, she began crouching to return her things in her trunk.

"Under.stand."

And finally, with a grunt, he noted her status as healthy and stepped aside. Ini'ra had come from the mecca of Desnind to the desolate city of Etzos. What had she done?

[Danielle Tobelle]

10 Ashan 717

The events of the last few trials had been...interesting, but finally the hybrid girl was faced with the city walls of Etzos. There was no relief or pleasure at this fact. This was just another stop on her way. She would need to work, however, to keep she, the horse, and her damn arrogant bird fed. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Danielle wanted to be here for as little time as possible, but it would seem that fortune was not in her favor. Jaw clenched, she dismounted and approached the guards.

Upon asking her name, she almost thought to give a different name. But then, how would her father or Narav find her if there was no record of her being here in the first place? "My name is Danielle Tobelle. I'm here looking for someone." She did not elaborate further. Her name would be sufficient enough if either her father or brother came looking for her in this abysmal city. "This is my first visit." And the last; if she had her way, she would never leave Ne'haer again when she returned.

Her possessions weren't worth much appraisal, only essentials. The only thing that would be of worth to her was the compass secured in her pants pocket, but she wasn't going to list that. Better to keep it to herself. Her eyes darted between the numerous guards stationed at the gates. "Just a horse, a wagon, and a bird that doesn't listen." Perhaps there was too much of an edge to her voice. She shut her mouth before a comment incited by the frustrations of this interaction left her.

She snorted at the mention of Immortals. There was only one she held in regard, but it would seem that she had been forgotten by them. But, a very small, minuscule part of her still held out that she might invoke the attention of Moseke. That being said, doing so here would prove difficult. "Yes, yes; keep the immortal loving to myself. Well understood." The smile that graced her face was mocking and, frankly, unnecessary.

"I believe I can handle things myself when I get in through the gates." Another smile, this one more forced than the last. The guards, appearing satisfied with her answers, allowed her passage. The smile dropped from her face immediately. She mounted her horse once more, kicking into its sides to get it moving as she passed wordlessly through the gates into the cesspool that was the city of Etzos.

Common | Other

[Kyin]

Saun 2, 717

As Kyin approaches the guard who promptly asks "What is your name Traveler?" without preamble, making Kyin bristle for a reason unbeknownst even to himself.

Sighing Kyin responds with a rather snippy "I am Kyin."

The guard seemingly oblivious to Kyin's tone, or just so accustomed to similar ones replies "And your last name?"

Kyin deciding to stir the proverbial pot visibly trembles in mock indignation "Do I look like an old man to you?! I can only to assume you are not well versed in the bullshit we Qi'Ora feel the irrational compulsion to do, we have 1 name when born, and are given another by the masters of our apprenticeships when we complete them, and if we truly master a craft we are given a third." As the guard opens his mouth to respond Kyin throws his head back in laughter "I am sorry, I was just fucking with you, which was probably not the smartest move, considering I need a place to stay an this city is obviously the closest one to me."

As the guard reddens and asks what business Kyin had in town, Kyin realizes he lucked out. "I must have found my self a green-as-grass guard." Kyin thinks to himself. After a few moments of internal dialogue, Kyin's train of thought is interrupted by the guard saying "Excuse me, sir. Your business in Etzos."

"Oh, I am looking for work in a trade." Kyin states dully, the monotony of life returning.

"And have you had any previous visits to our fair city?" The guard asks warily, taken slightly aback by the sudden shift in behavior of the very strange man.

"Afraid not, can I go yet? My feet hurt pretty bad, and I kind of need them to drink." Kyin responds, hoping to confuse the novice guard and get this dull exchange over with.

The guard is quite happy to oblige, feeling very uncomfortable with this unusual person, "Go ahead." He waves Kyin past.

With that Kyin starts his new journey, which is likely to be one of rife with boredom and apathy, as is the way of Kyin.

[Oberan]

Trial 25 Saun 717

Oberan felt winded. Between about ten arcs in prison and more than thirty trials spent on a boat, his physical prowess had decreased dramatically. Glad as he was for the non-shaking and non-rocking underground beneath his feet after an eternity of fighting nausea and vomiting up his meals, he wasn’t ready for a long walk. His legs were burning and his heart beating way too fast and loud, struggling to pump his blood all around his body. His forehead let many beads of sweat form, which then snaked their way down his face. It wasn’t all due to his body’s weakness though; it was also hot, which did not make things better. With the back of his hand he wiped the sweat from his brow and walked on, glad to see the gates appear before him.

He took a moment to rest when he reached the statue, looking up into that big stone face of what supposedly was the founder of the city. Well, according to the plaque anyway. The expression captured in stone was one of seriousness. No-nonsense, as it was described by some of the sailors on the ship. They had said it was the attitude of the Etzori, and that was just one of the reasons Bran had chosen to come here. He could have gone anywhere, really –though he wasn’t too keen on spending a long journey aboard a ship—but a city with such serious people was perfect to play some pranks on. Liven things up a little. A bit of mischief to spice up the boring life of the working class, as well as provide entertainment to Oberan himself.

A grin spread over his features. This was going to be great!
Of course, he would need to get into the city first, so he could buy a house or something. And perhaps look for employment. As much as such drudgery was beneath him, there might be something interesting among the job offers.

”You have the look of a troublemaker,” a gruff voice spoke from beside him, making Oberan turn to look at the source of the sound. It was a guardsman, as to be expected. He was rather tall, with broad shoulders, and stubble on his chin. He wore a sword on his hip, though neither of his hands were even close to the weapon. Either he did not want to come across as a threat, or he felt like the Mortalborn was no danger to him. The latter was fair, to be honest. Bran felt rather weak, not having been able to do much exercise in jail, and only having been given a sparse amount of food each day, enough not to starve, but not much else besides. It had resulted not only in a loss of strength, but also of skill, leaving the troublemaker feeling stiff and awkward. Taking on one trained guardsman would be a difficult task, not to mention the dozen more that were waiting at the actual gate… Bran would be absolutely slaughtered. Even with his abilities, it was not likely he would come out of there in one piece. More than likely he would be thrown back in jail, and if there was anywhere he’d rather not be, it would be jail. To make matters worse, he was out of keys too, so escape would be very difficult as well. No, for now it was better to keep his head down, nod like a good mortal would, and get inside the city. When he was back to a relatively decent level, he could still begin his shenanigans.

”I do hope you’re not thinking of anything stupid,” the guardsman spoke, having noticed Bran sizing him up. The Mortalborn smiled at him, though it was more a grin than a genuine smile.
”I wouldn’t even dare think about it, Ser Guard,” he said, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

”Right,” the man replied, eyebrow raised. ”Well, whatever. State your name, business, and the dates of previous visits.” He did not sound very friendly, a little blunt even, but Bran did not really mind. If he had been standing there, trial in, trial out, asking the same questions to every person who wanted to enter the city… well, he’d be a little curt as well.
”Oberan Brackling, here to look for a place to stay for a while, and get a job.” The next question was a bit tricky. Had he been here before? Maybe, but he couldn’t quite remember. In his past life he probably would have steered clear of Etzos due to its anti-Immortals policy. ”This is my first visit.”

The man nodded, noting it all down on a piece of parchment, the quill scratching on the rough material. ”Any noteworthy items in there?” he asked, pointing with the feather of his quill to the backpack Bran was wearing. He shrugged the item off his shoulders and opened it up so he can have a look.
”Toiletries.”
”Hm. So, none.” Another note on the parchment. ”Now I must inform you to refrain from public worship of the Immortals. This includes small things like drinking in their name or praying. In private, you can do whatever you wish. Got that?”
”Yes ser.”
”Good.” He gestured at his comrades at the gate, who promptly began to open the heavy construction up. ”Now, for a residence and employment, you will want to go to the Office of the Citizen’s Committee, which you can find by going--”

During the whole explanation Bran nodded, trying to memorize the directions given. He would need to learn the city outline as soon as possible, if he wanted to be successful in his thieving business. Knowledge of your territory was as important a tool as any lockpick or glass cutter after all. When the guardsman was done, Oberan thanked him politely and stepped through the massive gate, into the city.

[Keegan]

98 Vhalar 717

It had been a very long time.

And while the arcs may have changed the undergrowth that lined the road, there was one thing that would remain a constant as she entered the clearing, one hand on the equine beast’s lead and the other tucked firmly in her pocket. It was the feeling of being watched.

It felt disconcerting in the same way that it comforted her, and even the familiar smell of the city pricked goosebumps along the woman’s skin, even rousing the small hairs on the back of her neck to stand upright.

She would be staring at his statue, the one erected Parhn’s memory, when the guard addressed her. It was not surprising that a small girl would not threaten him, the man barely lifting his head from the parchment as he questioned her.

”Keegan.” She had been practicing it, her name. She said it over and over with the same inflection and tone, wiping away the harsh Rhakrosii accent, rounding her syllables in a way that sounded native Common. Or at least, passable.

She swallowed then, eyes dipping to the floor before returning to the guard. She had practiced her name, but did not anticipate further questioning. ”I visit my mother.” She started. ”I live here as child.”

”I bring what you see, yes? A horse. A Lr—“ She stopped, reworking the word in Common before continuing, a desperate fight against the accent that might make this interaction difficult. ”dog. I do not worship. I return home, yes?”

But it was the first time since leaving, that Etzos did not feel like home. The lead on the horse was jerked forward then, and this uncomfortable realization found an uneasy residence within the hollow of her stomach.

It had, after all, been a very long time.