[City Gates] Tel' Nim Ando

[Aqua]

IMPORTANT NOTE Unless you are an Esh'lahier or a fae, the Gates of Ethgan'tor are not self-moderated! Ethgan'tor is a city where to say that racial tensions run high is an understatement. Races other than Esh'lahier and fae are now being admitted to the city due to trade necessities caused by the recent drought, but their activities and the duration of their stays are carefully monitored. ~ If your PC is: Katta, Dorin, Lutran, Rodenti, or Mer, they will feel some discrimination, but will likely be relatively free to conduct their business in Ethgan'tor. ~ If your PC is: Saurid, Giant, Nimalni, Thëlyri, or Gnome, they will note more hostility from the locals. They will probably still be able to conduct their business, but it won't necessarily be pleasant. ~ If your PC is: Human, Elf, Vysstichi, Dwarf, Dracon, Cether, or Orc, the guards at the gate will almost certainly not admit them to the city. It is possible to RP getting into the city in another way, but such a thread will need to be moderated. Be aware that if you are not a slave and are discovered in the city, the likelihood of physical harm is high.

Because of the overwhelming need for food, water, and other supplies due to the extended drought in Ethgan'tor, there is now one clear pathway that leads to the city through the Forest of Light, maintained by some of Ethgan'tor's most skilled mages. Those who wander off the path, however, become lost in the ever-shifting woods.

As the road nears the city, a traveler would note that it is constructed of perfectly fitting paving stones of white that interlock and join together so well that no means but that of Arcana could be used to pry the stones apart. Before though is where ones eyes truly linger. Running from side to side is a wall of dazzling white marble shot with light pink veins that stretch some twenty-five meters high and at intervals some two hundred meters across rest guard towers build within the walls themselves. Great bronze basins and torches run along the walls themselves, golden flames burning through the brightening and all through the night to allow any of the Esh’lahier, and those True to their cause to see the city bathed in light. The Esh’lahier may be considered Dark Elves amongst those of Telath, but that gave the severe Elves no reason to persist in such a concept and dwell in the undergrounds like their corrupted brethren, the Vysstichi.

Spires of light rush to meet the sky, a hundred meters high, if not more so, each seeming to compete with each other in splendour and magnificence – but all pale in comparison to the Tower which rests at the very heart of Ethgan’tor, at the very heart of the Forest of Light. Standing at five hundred meters from ground level, it’s almost impossible to determine how this could not be seen from outside the Forest of Light and yet there it was. The final fortress, unused except to hold the Esh’lahier Noble Houses in current times and currently the seat of power for politics. The final hundred meters though none can see, shrouded in soft white clouds that cover the area around the great spire itself, and every now and again one might see the barely visible forms of the Pegasi Cavalry swoop around and drift upon the rising thermals.

The gates however, that which rests before those who have travelled the singular path that takes almost an entire cycle to complete from the edges of the Forest of Light stands forth where the pathway ends. The Gate Tower itself is an opening twenty-five meters across, on either side a pillar rising upwards before enclosing itself in an archway that hides with cunning workmanship a double gate built from pure adamantinum designed to hold back the unwelcome armies of others in the rare case that one brightening, war might come to Ethgan’tor. Walking forwards, a pair of Esh’lahier stride forth from the ‘Iylantian Levy’, each lithe figure moving with a precision timing that would make Imperial Guard Commanders around the Aelyrian Empire green with envy. Both were exactly two meters tall and had the Esh’lahier trait of skin like moonlight and alabaster hair that hung to their shoulders. Their features were beautiful, radiant…and yet, that was by Human standards. Each was garbed in white linen tunic and soft white brigga that ended at their kneecaps to be covered in light grey military boots. On their left hip a longknife sheathe was borne, though no conventional weapon such as a sword or axe could be seen. Wrapped around their shoulders, flowing free was a warm woolen cloak that bore the runes for ‘Hope’ in the middle.

“Vedui,” stated the guard on the left with a warm smile as she glanced up at the gate tower before inclining her head in a slight nod before returning her gaze back down. “Welcome to Ethgan’tor. Please state your name and purpose within the city of Ioannes’ virtue. If you are a trader, please indicate your business here, and the duration of your stay.” The guard on the right, a man with a somewhat harsher features continually shifted his gaze to watch the pathways entrance or exit, depending upon one's perspective, as if expecting more people to follow yet.

Original description written by GM Maddyn

[Tarfuss]

OOC - deleted because I didn't read the PLAYER INSTRUCTIONS. duh.

[Kalashnikov]

Kalashnikov, being the witty little Dorin he his, stares at awe at the city gates for a good long while.

[Aqua]

Winter, Era XV PF

The guards looked at the gawking dorin, and one of them gave an existential shrug. Before the drought, they didn't have to endure the stares of outlanders, but these were different days.

"Vedui," one of them said to the dorin in a voice that wasn't particularly friendly. "Have you got any business to conduct here in Ethgan'tor? And if so, what is it?" He peered down his nose at the visitor.

[Kalashnikov]

Originally Posted by Aqua

Winter, Era XV PF

The guards looked at the gawking dorin, and one of them gave an existential shrug. Before the drought, they didn't have to endure the stares of outlanders, but these were different days.

"Vedui," one of them said to the dorin in a voice that wasn't particularly friendly. "Have you got any business to conduct here in Ethgan'tor? And if so, what is it?" He peered down his nose at the visitor.

Kalashnikov, glaring at them, replied. "I come here for supplies and rest, for you see, I don't come from around here, may i enter your fine city?" His eyes shifting left to right, conspicuously, while he shuffles his feet nervously awaiting for the answer.

[Aqua]

"We certainly see you don't come from around here," one guard said dryly. Then he glanced over at his companion. Supplies and rest? This dorin must be terribly lost to have wandered through the Forest of Light simply for that.

Or perhaps he was an advance representative from some trading company. "We'll need to see your identification, and we'll give you a permit good for one cycle within the city. Should you need more time than that, you'll need to visit Tel' Fenda to have it renewed."

Assuming the identification was provided, the dorin would be let into the city.

[Kalashnikov]

Originally Posted by Aqua

"We certainly see you don't come from around here," one guard said dryly. Then he glanced over at his companion. Supplies and rest? This dorin must be terribly lost to have wandered through the Forest of Light simply for that.

Or perhaps he was an advance representative from some trading company. "We'll need to see your identification, and we'll give you a permit good for one cycle within the city. Should you need more time than that, you'll need to visit Tel' Fenda to have it renewed."

Assuming the identification was provided, the dorin would be let into the city.

Time Stamp: First Cycle of Pontus in the season of winter, era I of the CM, era XV PF

Kalashnikov, having no such identification decides it would be better to head elsewhere. "Thank you for your assistance, but i think it will be best if i went elsewhere. I've been hearing about an interesting city named Ieffreon." He grabs his dagger close for fear of being attacked by the guards, and walks off.

[Aqua]

The guards didn't attack; they didn't even move as Kalashnikov departed. Ieffreon? That was all the way at the far north end of the Empire. Clearly, this dorin had more than a few problems, and they were quite willing to let him depart in peace.

[Archalen Andares]

Timestamp: Third cycle of Cryxatum, In the Era of Spring, Era XV

It had happened as soon as he had entered the forest of light, and the longer he traversed that long forgotten pathway still but a slight memory in his mind he realized something was off. Something here under the canopy and towering trees had shifted since he was younger, had changed. The winding and familiar gateway to the holy city was..different. It was hard to put a finger on at first, for the peaceful trails through the forest were still in the same places and still took turns and forks where they should but no, something was defiantly amiss. There was a slight feeling of arcana tainting the forest path; although so subtly that Archalen Andares, proud Esh'lahier born of Ethgan'tor, did not notice right away.

This journey which had started in Portshire had becoming something more then a simple homecoming. It was a pilgramige, a journey to rest his weary soul and once again be among his people. For over more then half a century he had been a way from the warmth and splendor of his home city. He had been away from the ways and culture of those like himself. Now, with every step through the forest of light, it became more and more urgent to return home. For his spirit, and his mind. He had to return to the source; return to the one of the only places he felt safe and relaxed. But as he traveled the seemingly strange yet familiar pathways mazing through the gaurdian of the city he wondered how much had changed, and how much remained the same.

Surely he had changed; that much was obvious. He was now employed by the Kingdom of Man, fed and clothed by them. He had made somewhat of a name amongst their leaders and politicians. He had accepted their culture and traded away the sacred spirit that was Esh'lahier. Which is why, he thought, it was so important to return less he lose that which he was peramantetly. Like a thousand rays of relieve, and peace embracing him like he hadn't rememebered his, his face lit up when finally he came to the clearing and looked out over the home of his people.

He stood their momentarily, in his white long sleeved shirt with unbuttoned collar, looking at the image. With focused strength he willed his black clothed legs forward, plunging his brown boots through the grass laying, framing, his city. The gaurds would notice hm coming a fair ways away, of this he was certian of their vigilance. They would see what he had becoming of late; a still somewhat malnurished and sickly looking esh'lahier of a young age. He carried nothing save for a small rucksack thrown over his right shoulder. His gray hair blew somewhat in a lazy breeze before being tucked behind double pointed ears. As he came to the majestic gates he could not help the smile that appared on his face.

"Vendui" he replied, now realizing how long it had been since he used that greeting. He looked to the guards and nodded, a gesture he thought held both welcome and something akin to "it's good to be home'. "Lord Archalen Andares, of House Andares, seeks to return home to his people after many era's away" he said plainly, but proudly. He even chuckled a little, something he had not done in quite honestly many a months. He would offer to answer any other questions before moving inside.

But first, his curiosity begged him to ask the question. "Guardsman, as I came through the forest....forgive me, but has something changed there? It has been a while since I last returned home, but I sense....something there." He asked, in a way. It was likely that his memory was simply failing but as soon as he exited the forest the strange feeling left him.

[Aqua]

The guards had no questions for Archalen, and were poised to let him through. However, Archalen posed a question of his own, and one of the guards, an older Esh'lahier with a quiet face, looked thoughtfully at his spear.

"Much has changed, Lord Andares," he said softly. "The drought has now lasted four eras, and Ethgan'tor's food supplies are exhausted. The path through the Forest of Light has been kept open through arcanic means so that traders can bring food to the city -- that may be what you sensed. Queen Laroa has returned and taken up her place on the throne."

"Yes," he finished, shaking his head, "much has changed."

[Archalen Andares]

The young Ebon Watch member nodded his head solemnly, absorbing the information as it came. A displeasing frown could be found on his face here, the visible expression of emotion tied to what he thought of the situation. A drought? And not only that, but a drought that had lasted over four era's? His gray orbs darted up to the Final Tower, and cascaded down to the city walls catching everything between. The city was dying. It had to be, for as cut of as it was from the rest of the realm it could not sustain itself indefinaltly. The suffering the food shortage likely caused after three and one era's was likely prevelant now for the secluded city. Looking back toward the Forest of Light, Archalen wondered how many traders emerged each day? Was it enough to keep the city going?

Would it be enough to feed himself while he was here? He did have his health to consider after all. Having been without shelter and food this last few cycles his frame was recovering at this point, but still had a ways to go. Staying here and chancing more hunger and starvation on his body would likely prove beyond damaging. For the amount of damage his body had taken thus far, he could not afford to go anymore then a few brightenings without regular food and drink. Such a thing would likely be a death sentence to the now gaunt and still malnurished esh'lahier. With his eyes still on the winding trail behind him he considered his options at this point.

He could continue on into Ethgan'tor and risk death, or turn back from this pilgremage and homecoming.

And what was the young esh'lahier to do? Simply retreat and head back to the kingdom? Abandon his people in time of need? He shook his head softly, looking toward the green grass below as if he really had a choice. He would have to strive to help his people, his homeland. This city, his city, had to be helped and if he indeed did have to risk mortal life for even the attempt at trying to save his ancestral home he would. Looking to the gaurdsman once again he inclined his head, as if an understanding was there about the troubles. "I see." was all he simply said. Turning back to the city he drew a deep breath and remarked "Take heart gaurdsman, Ioannes will see us through, he will not abandon us in our time of need." With that he took a step forward. Then another. Determined footfalls that held a hint of urgency proppeled him inside the city. He would meet Queen Laroa and seek to aid his people. Once out of the gaurdsmans range of listening a mumble could be heard stemming from Archalens pale thin lips. "Hopefully", he said almsot silently.

And so the child returned to his home, intent upon saving his city or trying to. Was there ever a choice? Could an esh'lahier do any less?