[Location] Vortex City Gates (self modded)

[Wraith]

OOC: Jynx, Kain, Sakura & Shadow - Thumbs up.

[Gures Angau]

It was bitterly cold as the young boy known as Gures returned to Vortex. It had been a while since his last visit, his search for his family had been fruitless and so he decided to settle down in one place instead of travelling around. Why Vortex? He didn't know he just felt strangely drawn to the city.

He quickly walked up to the gates hoping that once again he wouldn't have any problems getting inside. He could feel the guards eyeing him up, probably commenting on why a young boy would be travelling alone. Either way he didn't care, what he did was his business and no one elses.

He passed over his visa and said, "I am returning here looking for home."

He waited to be allowed enterance before heading off into the city.

[Wraith]

Gures Angau

The guard briefly surveyed the child before asking for his visa. As the young human turned over his visa, the guard gave him a brief smile and directed him towards the center of the city.

[Shadowgrin]

It had been a long journey, but finally he was here. All of the time and ruined shoes have finally payed off, he thought to himself, as he stopped for a moment to take in the gates. Finally he- Damn!

While taking his breather he noticed that every person that approached the gates was required to show a visa before entering. A visa that he did not have. Well, there's no turning back now., he thought to himself. Hopefully there's a place where I can get one of those. After a moment of hesitation he approached the guards.

"Serale, I have traveled here in search of training and a job. Since I am not from around here, I do not have the visa needed to pass these gates. Is there any way that I could aquire the visa that allows me entrance to this city? I would hate to have come all this way for nothing."

[Wraith]

Shadowgrin

The guard the odd looking man in jester attire had begun to speak to surveyed him with cold red vysstichi eyes. His pitch skin remained completely devoid of any emotion as he surveyed the man critically for a few moments before speaking in a bold commanding voice, "Come with me please."

He led the man into a large barracks below the looming shadow of the vortexian ramparts. The man would feel sligthly uncomfortable, it felt as if he was being led to the gallows by the slightly less than cheerful vysstichi.

He was led through a heavy wooden door to an office like room. The humble room had only a vibrant rug decoration the floor, moreso to diminish the feel of the cold stones than to appease the eye and several wooden chairs and a table.

What truly made the room more than imposing was the large man dressed in uniform writing slowly on a piece of parchment at the table. Obviously quite taken with the task at hand, the man looked up only briefly to dismiss the guard and briefly take a glimpse of the odd looking barbarian.

His purple and black uniform covering plate mail only enhanced his most interesting feature. The cold blue eyes shone with intelligence and wit; framed only by a closely cropped head and beard of jet black hair. The man's largely set body and defined jaw spoke loudly of his profession, but the way the quill in his hand danced gently across the page spoke of his character.

The man's demeanor was calm, but he ported the face of an experienced fighter and his stony gaze bore into the barbarian standing across from him as he set aside the finished document and quill before him.

A short sword lay sheathed to the right of him on the desk and a blunt quarterstaff sat upright in the corner directly behind him. The quarter staff was capped on one side with a vibrant type of steel, while the other was smoothly bored into a sharp point. The staff appeared to have seen a bit of battle, but looked to be perfectly balanced and well used.

The dark man cocked his head lightly to the side as he weighed the barbarian sitting across from him. "What's your name son...?" He said while crossing the fingers on his beefy hands and leaning inwardly on the desk.

[Shadowgrin]

Shadowgrin was nervous to start out with, and the ominous feel this place gave off did not help much. But after a moment he reasoned that such a city probably always has an aura like this. As he was led into the final room he was certain of one thing: It was in his best interests to stay on the good side of the man at the table. He was wondering something akin to how many ways he could cause his own demise in this situation when the man asked for his name.

"My name is Shadowgrin, sir."

He noticed the strange look the man was giving him, and was quick to try to remedy that.

"It's a strange name, I know, but most things about me are like that."

He gestured at the clothing he was wearing, which looked like the creation of a tailor gone mad, to support this.

[Wraith]

Shadowgrin

The eyebrow of the dark man rose, "Yes... indeed." The man said before standing abruptly and leaving his desk.

The barbarian could hear the man pace behind him expectantly for a few seconds before the silence was broken yet again by his firm voice.

"Have you any idea why my man has brought you to me?" Asked the man before stopping abruptly.

[Shadowgrin]

Shadowgrin resists the tempation to look behind him, and tries his best to listen for any metallic sounds. Such as those made when a sword is unsheathed.

"I am hoping that he brought me here to aquire a visa, but of course I could be wrong..."

[Wraith]

Shadowgrin

The man had certainly not become hostile... yet. The barbarian had yet to understand what violence was. But he was in vortex... Certainly a good place to learn.

"Ahhh... So you need a visa.." He continued before circling around the opposite way he had come to reseat himself at his desk. "Why pray-tell... Do you not have a visa... The man said calmly, his sharp eyes critically looking for any sign of deceit.

[Shadowgrin]

Although he tried not to show it, Shadowgrin breathed a mental sigh of relief when he could once again see his interrogator.

"I have no visa because, up until now, I lived basically out in the middle of nowhere. There were no major cities around where I was raised, thus there never arose a need to have one."

[Wraith]

OOC: You may now post in the aedile's office.

The man continued to bore into the barbarian... His cold bright eyes surveying him from head to toe.

After a moment, he seemed to have decided on something and motioned for the barbarian to stand. "It is my responsibility to personally oversee anyone entering the city without a visa since the disappearance of the thane's daughter." He smiled then, the first time the barbarian had seen since entering the room. "You will exscuse me of course, I will have a guard personally escort you to the aedile's office so that you may acquire a visa."

He walked the barbarian to the door and opened it. With a short sign of friendship and a brief spoken word to the same vysstichi who had directed him toward the dark man's office, he closed his door and the barbarian was left to the whims of the vysstichi guard.

"Follow me.." He said strongly before beginning to march towards the center of the city; gazing over his shoulder every couple of moments to make sure that his intended burden got to the location directed to him by his senior officer.

[Zoveh]

The human walked up to the gates slowly, taking in the view of the city walls. He stood at approximately 5'10" with short dark hair, and a dagger at one side.

He thought of the deaths of his parents, who had met a cruel end due to the bigotries of the non-Dracons. The memory of that horrid day filled him with a desire for vengeance, and he began walking anew toward the gates. He would have his revenge, but first he would learn the tools to conduct it.

The man cocked his head to the side when asked for his visa and reason of business.

"V-visa? I was born in the wilderness...I don't have a visa. I heard stories of your city, and hoped I could learn a trade and start up business someday."

[Konar Grimshni]

Morning, Hour 13 of Melora Brightening, 2nd Cycle of Junctior.
Autumn of Era X, In the Age of the Darkening, the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad.
Paradigm: The truce of the Merfolk and the Demiosians.

Konar kicked a small stone that was in front of him into the direction of the gates of what supposedly was the city of Vortex. Some dust rose from the ground as the stone tumbled forwards and Konar focused on what was in front of him again. The place was big, quite a bit bigger then his hometown Taralon had been actually, and there was a different atmosphere. At least it was also close to some mountains, which at least made him feel at home. He tugged his hands in the pockets of his pants, reaching for the key to his uncle's house and the folded piece of paper which contained the map with directions on how to find it once inside of Vortex. He forced a small smile upon his face as he got closer to the gates and thus also the city guards.

The journey hadn't been very kind to the relatively young dwarf. He was the only dwarf that was in the coach and whether it was because of that fact or not, barely anyone bothered to talk to him at all. He wanted to attempt and start some conversations, but either they'd turn away their heads or they already started talking with someone else about something of which the young dwarf had absolutely no knowledge at all. At one time, there were even only two people in the coach, both elves, they were giving him an awkward eye alright. Fortunately, they left after a stop or two which left him with a handful of humans who had gotten on the coach by then. He traded some small talks on where they were going and what they were going to do when the stupid coach suddenly stopped. One of the wheels had broken down and couldn't be replaced very fast, they had to wait for the next coach to pass by which easily could have taken a few candlemarks. One of the humans said that if Konar was heading for Vortex he might as well walk it from where they stranded, it wasn't any longer then a candlemark, he said.

"Pah! No less then a candlemark, eh? I ought to kick him when I sees that lad again..." Konar mumbled to himself, still far enough out of reach of the gate guards to prevent them from thinking there was some madman talking to himself wanting to enter the city. It had taken him two full candlemarks at least to find this place and now he still had to find his uncle's place. A task which perhaps would prove easier with the help of the map he had. Nevertheless, his mood had already been kicked down to the ground bad enough to make the rendezvous with his uncle impossible to be even slightly something to look forward to. "I wonder if I'll even recognize the old coot when I sees him..." Konar thought to himself, trying to remember what his uncle looked like the last time he saw him, which was easily thirty years ago.

Then the guards spoke to him, "Ahh.. yes, my visa.. my visa.. my.." he said as he placed his hand in his right pocket, searching for that small bundle of papers that made up his visa. He had never used it before, but his mother had told him hundreds of time that it was extremely important and he shouldn't let it out of his sight at any time. Perhaps it wasn't very smart to keep it in his pocket just like that, but he had nowhere else to place it anyway. As he grasped it and took it out of his pocket he held it in front of him, for the guard to take it. "There ye goes! That's me visa, and I am here to live at me uncle's place because of.. family reasons and I'll probably be searchin' for a job as well, after I've found me uncle's place that is.. is that ok with ye?" Konar said, not wanting to get to much into the details that he was sent here because his parents just couldn't take care of him anymore. He waited for the guards to let him through... or.. yeah, well, or deny him entrance which would be very bad probably.

[Kalinda]

Zoveh

Terren let out a very soft yawn as Zoveh approached the gate and smoothed the black and purple uniform that identified her as a member of the city guard. It had been a long brightening yesterday, and the half vysstichi woman was still tired from it. Her brown eyes looked very small right now, and deep lines marred her pale skin. Strands of messy white hair fell into her face, nearly obscured her delicate features. „Human …“ she murmurred as the newest visitor came into view, and then, just to be sure that she had not overlooked an important detail, studied him again. He was indeed human.

„You don’t have a visa?“ she asked incredulously. He did not have a visa, which meant she would have to led him into the barracks so that he could be questioned like every other man that arrived in the city without a visa. A deep sigh escaped her lips. That meant more work – more work than she wanted. „Follow me, Sir …“ she told him and gestured for him to walk behind her. „There is somebody that would like to ask you a few questions before we go about getting a visa for you …“

She led Zoveh into a large barracks below the shadow of the Vortexian ramparts. Only Terren’s smile that was somewhere between reassuring and frustrated kept him from thinking that he was not being led towards his new visa but to the gallows. He was led through a heavy door made of dark brown wood and into an office of sorts. The floor of the room was covered with a vibrant rug whose purpose was to diminish the cold that came from the stone floor rather than making the room look a little bit more pleasant. Several wooden chairs and a table stood on it.

What truly made the room more than imposing was the large man dressed in uniform writing slowly on a piece of parchment at the table. Obviously quite taken with the task at hand, the man looked up only briefly to dismiss the half vysstichci woman and took a glimpse of the barbarian. There had been quite a lot of people without a visa at the gates recently, and it made him just a little bit suspicious. What was going on in the city?

His purple and black uniform covering plate mail only enhanced his most interesting feature. The cold blue eyes shone with intelligence and wit; framed only by a closely cropped head and beard of jet black hair. The man's largely set body and defined jaw spoke loudly of his profession, but the way the quill in his hand danced gently across the page spoke of his character.

The man's demeanor was calm, but he ported the face of an experienced fighter and his stony gaze bore into the barbarian standing across from him as he set aside the finished document and quill before him.

A short sword lay sheathed to the right of him on the desk and a blunt quarterstaff sat upright in the corner directly behind him. The quarter staff was capped on one side with a vibrant type of steel, while the other was smoothly bored into a sharp point. The staff appeared to have seen a bit of battle, but looked to be perfectly balanced and well used.

The dark man cocked his head lightly to the side as he weighed the barbarian sitting across from him. "What's your name son...?" He said while crossing the fingers on his beefy hands and leaning inwardly on the desk.

[Kalinda]

Konar Grimshni

While Terren dealt with the disguised dracon known as Zoveh, another guard approached Konar. The man was human, like most of the inhabitants of the surface city of Vortex and had long black hair and bright blue eyes. He would have been handsome if it weren’t for the fact that his once pale skin had taken on a red shimmer – the result of too much alcohol consumed in too short a time. The dwarf could see that he had a small bottle tucked into his belt … it was likely filled with more alcohol. But then again most dwarves didn’t care about such things as much as humans or elves. They were known to enjoy a drop of ale every once in a while themselves.

Jamison – that was the human’s name – stared at the approaching dwarf. It had been a long time since he had seen a member of the short race in Vortex – even though the mountains in the city’s vicinity were filled with lots of mine that were full of gems and precious metals. Most dwarves didn’t like the fact that there was a huge settlement of vysstichi and esh’lahier directly under the city. It was a known fact that dwarves and elves didn’t get along, and that most dwarves harboured an intense hatred for dark elves.

He took the young dwarf’s visa after a somewhat curious glance and looked it over. He did not care if the thing came to live in a city full of vysstichi. It was not his business, not if his visa was not a fake, not if he had a house there. He let out a loud burp – the alcohol had not left his system yet – as he returned the document to ist rightful owner and muttered, „Of course it’s okay with me – as long as you behave. But you should be careful when you are dealing with those dark skinned devils. They don’t like your kind …“ He shrugged his shoulders, and then, in an act of good will and pure selflessness, decided to ask, „What kind of job are you looking for?“