[IC] Relics of the First Age

[Sep]

The great hall echoed with footsteps as Prince Althor walked down towards the throne. A group of people stood near a table, behind them the throne sat vacant as always but after today that would be his position. Finally turning eighteen he would rule the Kingdom of Etrid as his father had intended, rather than custodianship falling to the Order of the Third Moon. The Order had significance, however, it had too much power. Althors father had spoken to him about it at length, and how the future of Etrid required separation between religious zealots and the state. You couldn't be fair to all your people if you could not treat them all equally after all. As the Prince approached the group they all stood to the side of the table bowing their heads, at their centre was a man dressed all in white who offered little more than a courteous head bow. Althor returned the gesture in kind.

"Grand Inquisitor."

"My Prince."

"How goes the preparations for the coronation?" As Althor moved closer to the table to see the plans they were quickly rolled up by an aide who then clasped them in his free hand while he just looked at the prince nervously. "What, do I not get to see my own proceedings?"

The Inquisitor looked amongst his aides before speaking. "We just feel it best that you focus on your own part of the coronation, such as the oath of allegiance. All you need to know is that the parade shall leave the palace at noon and arrive at the stadium an hour later. You do battle in the arena with a hippogriff and upon your victory, you recite your oath and take the crown. We shall deal with the minutia that is below you." Althor looked upon the Inquisitor's plain face, hard to read as ever before merely nodding.

"Very well-" And the sooner I am rid of you the better was how he wanted to finish that sentence. The Prince wasn't even sure who he would fill his court with, the only advisors that he had consulted since his fathers death all had ties to the Order of the Third Moon though that was quite likely the point. His fathers journals had warned him about the intracies of not just noble politics but of those of normal birth and how they sought to obtain power. "-if anyone needs me I shall be in my chambers. Preparing." Turning without a further thought it wasn't beyond his notice that the moment he was out of earshot the conversation begun anew. Whatever they were plotting, he would be ready for it and once he was King he'd be rid of them. Of this much he was certain.

---

The guard barely made a noise as he was lowered to the floor, his throat gushing with blood from the freshly opened wound. The man dressed all in black returned to the shadows, they accepted him as if they were one of their own. The shadows billowing around him and hugging the cloak. He continued down the corridor for another ten metres before he turned to the wall, removing a piece of chalk and inscribing a symbol upon the wall. He then placed his hand over the symbol and spoke, his voice deep and throaty. "Gebind alfuhl gemengan cbeft" The symbol glowed for a second before he wiped it and it disappeared. Smiling to himself he continued down the corridor for a further ten metres before performing the same ritual and so on and so forth.

He had to be quick however, soon the guards body would be noticed and if he did not complete his work before then well. Everything was in jeapordy.

[Renny]

Oz

---

_{Greytry - Circus Tent, Kingdom of Etrid}

Ozymandias read the poorly kept book that was held between his legs quietly. Gaze focused though his mind out of habit was keenly aware of his chaotic surroundings. From the savage sounds of beasts being prodded or delicately tugged, to the harmony of voices setting stages or doing last minute clean ups. Saree, a female lion-tamer, was coddling her favorite beast inside its cage. She seemed intent on showcasing their bond, though no one cared either way. Which was why he had taken to reading near the behemoth's pin. Besides Saree not one other handler was capable of calming the Black Lion so people tended to avoid him.

Serenely, near childish, Ozymandias lowered his head and bent his back; becoming engrossed in the page, in the fantasy world between the covers of his novel. A small smile stretched his face and like a violent reaction, the Black Lion growled, reared back, and slammed against his cage. Hay straws tumbled to the floor and Saree hushed and stroked his mane till the saffron of his eyes softened like honey.

Ozymandias sighed with frustration before fixing his face into a more palpable expression. "Should I move?"

Saree kept her focus on the Black Lion, patting the beast down; comforting him. "No, no, no. He's better now. Aren't you fella? yea you are."

Ozymandias relaxed then before falling back into his book. He was finding where he had left off at when Saree continued. "I don't get why he gets riled up like that though. Its strange, that's for sure. Usually he's okay with you, Ozzy, so I don't think that's it. I hope its not some puberty thing."

Ozymandias didn't respond though he found the puberty comment stranger than her own inquiries.

[josephb]

Leofric

Northern Gate

It had been over twenty years since Leofric had seen the city of Greytry, or maybe less. He’d lost count of the years since he fled to the Great Plains. Despite everything that had happened, he still smiled when the walls first came into sight. All the good memories came rushing back to him of his childhood and everything with his wife. A smile came across his face as he slowly moved closer to the gate. There was three of them all together who had gone looking for his son and his friends. The two were some of Leofrics oldest friends: Michael and Roland. They had served under him when he commanded in Greytry. They all had their hoods up to try and cover their faces, even though it had been so long and they looked a lot older, they still didn’t want the wrong people to notice them.

“Ah it’s good to be home!” Michael said in his booming voice. “After we’ve found your daft son, I want to see if The Dancing Pig is still going. I swear you only needed one pint from there and you couldn’t walk! Will be better than that swill they serve in Yellowmoor.” Michael laughed to himself slapping Rolland’s arm who was riding to the side of him. The three of them were on horses whilst most of the people walked in.

“Yes, the only reason you want to go there is for the ale. It has nothing to do with the wenches and the whores.” Rolland replied to Michael, who let out a dirty laugh not denying it.

“Well luckily the gates are letting everyone in at the moment. Saves us from having to try and climb over at night.” Leofric said quietly interrupting them as they got closer. It was a few days before when they noticed more and more travellers heading in the same direction as them, when they found out about the coronation of Prince Alten. Leofric had met his father, King Grewalt only a few times. Maybe if he was closer to the King and had more power, none of this would have happened.

Leofric had been thinking for the past few days where would be best to look for his son. In the back of his mind, his head was coming up with all sorts of outcomes with what could have happened to him. Maybe he’s been speaking to the wrong people and he’d been discovered by The Order or maybe he hadn’t even made it to the city and he’d been attacked on the road or just gotten lost. His son hadn’t even been to Greytry since he was six, his memory wasn’t that good to remember the way. What a fool he is, Leofric thought to himself.

As they passed through the gates, guards who were dotted about watched Leofric and his companions but they didn’t bother to stop them. Leofric just hoped it was because they were on horses whilst most people walked. “And now to look for the needle in the haystack…” Leofric muttered with a sigh.

[Jamesyco]

Eisen

---

North Gate

A giant lumbered forward covered in thick furs, woven cloth, and chainmail. Around his shoulders was a thin cloak that acted more like a cloth windbreaker than anything else. He looked about the surroundings, mainly people, buildings, some guards here and there to keep the peace primarily but that was about it. Eisen was thankful for his size and mass, most people did not speak to him and he seemed to scar children as they believed he was a troll. He looked brutish, and in reality, he was, but he did care for many things in life. The world was connected, and life no matter how small had its purpose his people, and especially him. It was of an older way of life, the roots long forgotten, but the concept was still there. Names had changed or were merged with others, but the rituals would stay the same. It was his people's writing, how could it change it was archaic compared to the symbols and letting around them but it made due to a simple way of life in a cold desolate place.

He had honestly never seen so many people, his tribe was maybe fifty strong, the clan around it may be a few thousand, but he had never seen more than a few hundred. This was a city, and he would have to get used to it. He was a champion, an explorer, and a warrior. His life was based on oral stories and runic stones, but this was something else. People spoke of brothels, he had never been to a brothel, what was wench, a whore. He had a little idea, he just knows that this was his time to do something in this world aside from killing bandits, and fools.

But he was lost in amazement, this was large compared to his home, this was likely hundreds of miles away, he had barely been ten miles away from the home he was born in, and five from the one he had built for himself not a year before in preparation for taking a wife, but that was behind him at this moment, that could wait for years, those he considered friends, the two young men around his age. Oh, and several others that... He shook his head feeling something on his leg, well his knee. He looked down and saw someone stomping on his shoes and a small child. He did not feel her doing such a thing, but when she hit his leg he did feel it. It did not hurt, but it was annoying. Why would she attack something so large, so brutish. He leaned his head down and shifted his knees a bit as he patted her head softly.

"Shoo pup..." he said, gently pushing the child back a bit as he elongated once again hoping the child would not come back. He wished to not scare the poor thing and hoped that the child would not fear him like he believed he or she did.

[BigPapaBelial]

Q'ral Dinrah, Troll Earthcaller

Straight and tall.

That's how the ancestors always told him to walk.

Even if you're unsure of what's to come. Even if you're trying to hide what or who you are.

So this is how it happens that a being enters the outskirts of the Capitol city of Eltrid. Far from his home range in Cellhad indeed. But well the personal adventures of one Q'Ral Dinrah has taken him far. He's just now getting here to Eltrid after moving about in Cellhad some. But now lands to the north call him.

That one bard in a Soft-Folk inn on the borders of Cellhad had sung of great forests and almost unending plains. Sands and dunes of far off deserts and to the north, the cold ices of far Northern lands. And Q'Ral still being young enough felt the wanderlust and too the road he had gone. Oh yes it will be interesting indeed to see these places.

Entering the city he'd pulled his hood up abit, covering his face and the bald slightly rough scalp beneath, he'd rather not get in trouble for being a Troll among soft-folk no indeed. Though he can respect the humans for this monument. He can see the city walls ahead, and already smell the stagnate air within. YEs it's true the air doesn't get into these cities often. Those high walls keep the wind out. But it's all part of the adventure. Yes snorting up the stiff air of these cities is all part of the adventure.

Moving on a little he entered the city. Looking up at the buildings, "Far bigger and more permanent then our clan towns." The big Troll rumbled to himself. He probably would have went on to have visited the home of ruler here but there something caught his eye.

A Circus Tent.

There in the distance. All idea of visiting more of the capitol gone as he headed down the road towards the tent, "Yes this will be much more interesting then architecture I think." He grinned, "Players, clowns, dancers and fools, yes much more interesting." And so the disguised troll made his way towards the circus. He can check out how the soft-folk work their stone later.

[psych0pomp]

| 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 : North Gate - Greytry - Etrid | 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 : Some Fine Men | 𝑝𝑖𝑜𝑡𝑟'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑑 : Hungry |

A young Fyg held her arm upwards, her palm flat towards the night sky. The stars glittered between her tanned digits, which aligned with the massive stone hands above her. She pressed them shut, effectively blocking out the night, before opening them again. Her mother stirred behind her. Fyg opened her mouth to ask a question as Bautild drew her daughter in close. Her mother kissed her hair a few times before resting her chin on her daughter’s head. “Do you know where those stars came from?”
“Magic?” Fyg answered, squirming in her mother’s grasp.
“Sure.” She chuckled.
“You’re lying.”
“Why assume I knew the answer?” her mother asked, squeezing Fyg closer. “Truth is only spouted by the unimaginative settlers. Lies are for the creative adventurers.”
Fyg wriggled down, allowing her to look up at her mother. Her amber eyes were met with her mother’s equally golden ones. “And which one are you, mum?”
“First of all, I’m not your mother…”
Fyg giggled. “So, you’re a liar?”
Bautild grew silent and looked at the stars.

Greytry was the shining star of Etrid and its illustrious capital. It was where the fair folk of the land had gathered in droves to watch a human man get a shiny token of his power slapped on his head. At least it would remove the Order of the Third Moon from its seat of power. Or at least that’s what Fygawren Aescau had heard, and her ears were quite keen. Still, they would have been keener if everyone outside the North Gate would shut their mouths and let her think. Instead, they jostled her about like she was a sentient sack of potatoes as they trudged forward. It was rude. Fyg inhaled in exasperation. It also smelled horrible outside their fair city. Not that the Great Plains could really speak so highly of their fragrances—horses were aplenty along those flatlands. Still, the odor of so many bodies, pungent from travel, packed together as they squeezed through the front gate was enough for Fyg’s nose to draw upwards on her face. Two senses down, but her eyes still worked. She scanned the crowd as everyone pushed forward.

Men on horses, men on foot, men sitting in carriages, and exceptionally tall men. There was quite a variety about today. A flutter and a heavy mass landed on her shoulder with a bored flumph. It was Piotr, Fyg’s companion bird with the physical makeup of an overcooked dumpling. He practically oozed off her shoulder. She only had herself to blame. Fyg was far too sweet on him.

“So, Piotr, it seems as if we enter the city of Greytry with not a coin on our person,” Fyg said to the bird that definitely couldn’t understand her. She’d actually do better to talk to a plant. “Unless…” she trailed off as she pushed a hand into her coin purse. Unfortunately, all she pulled out was a bit of unmarked currency from the Great Plains, a button, and dried fruit of some kind. She blew the lint off the fruit. Piotr cooed and fluffed on her shoulder. “This is not for you. Candied fruits make you… well, you know.” She bit into it. “You know what I think? I think the number of people help and hinder us today.” Fyg didn’t finish that sentence but instead let the cogs in her mind crunch through the dangers of that.

There were enough people to get a bit of coin off of. There were also guards. Then again, there were a lot of people. Fyg would be taking a chance—a chance in the city where the Order of the Third Moon reigned. She could get away with her dalliances in the Great Plains. Could she here? Fyg sighed. She needed the coin. And better here than inside the gates where there were more walls to get stuck behind. It was then that Fyg spotted her prey. There were three of them atop horses in a sea of people. If she knew anything about giving chase mounted, it was that it only worked on flat and unobscured land.

She moved quickly, knocking at people’s ankles with her staff. More than a few curses were thrown in her direction, but she kept her head down and the scarlet cowl of her cloak pulled close. Yes, looking back, it hadn’t been the best color choice—but it had been her mother’s.

Fyg kept pace with the three men as she hurriedly prepared. She tucked her staff underneath her arm and spat the seed from the fruit into her right hand. Her other hand came to her belt and satchels. There she pulled a couple of potions from their secure latching. The liquid within the bottles, one a bleached green and the other a murky cobalt, viscously ran along the sides as she hoisted them up. She gave the glass a tap with her finger, the ring clinking against it to draw eyes and attention.

“Fine fellows,” she said, pulling from her diaphragm. Fyg tilted her head forward, casting a shadow over her face. “May I offer you some of the most sought after concoctions from the Great Plains. Brewed from the finest ingredients from within the Forests of Paeris and steeped in aged barrels from the oldest ruins in the plains themselves. They cure whatever ails you. Whether it be fatigue from the body or fatigue from the mind. They’re invigorating to the spirit… if you catch my meaning.” She lifted her head a bit and winked with her one uncovered eye.

All the while, a few small vines peeled out from the seed within her hand. All she needed to see was where their hands went when considering coin, and she’d move just as quick with the aid of her little saplings. Fyg knew not to make her magic visible. Quick and silent was the game.

| 𝑡𝑎𝑔(𝑠) : @josephb |

[Kazemitsu]

Heavy footsteps were just barely heard over the crowds of people talking among themselves, or shopping in the stalls. Feng was moving at an almost lazy pace through the crowds, the common folk moving out of the huge mans way when they noticed him. In one hand was a giant axe, the haft of it being used as a walking stick and the blade covered by a leather 'sheathe'. In the other he was a partially eaten smoked ham hock. His eyes, almost hidden by the shadow of his brow, observed the packed streets. The whisperings of the coronation coming from multiple directions.

That really was the only reason why he had come to this city. He wanted to see the new king with his own eyes, hear what he had to say. Would he be a worthy king? Or a puppet of the Faith sweeping across the land denying people a useful tool. The closer he had gotten to these lands and to this kingdom the more wary he got. There was no tolerance for magic, a death sentence for any practitioner most likely. But luckily his Relic, that ebony coin, was safely hidden and its effects impossible to tell without some sort of magical sensory.

As he had wandered the main areas of the city he had heard where a major event would be taking place. The coliseum, which was interesting. He didn't think there would have been a combat portion, he had never heard of a king actually fighting anything. But then again those stories may have been severely outdated. He did live on a mountain for his whole life, only choosing now to actually travel somewhere beyond the safety of his territory.

But here was a good question. What the hell was a coliseum? He'd have to stop and ask...or just follow the more mobile crowds direction. He'd stay away from the side roads for now and stay on this main one.

[Sep]

The city basically vibrated with excitement, a swell of the crowds pushed their way towards the colosseum while others more interested in the prince, or unable to afford the gold charged to get into the arena, gathered on the streets bordering the parade route. Guards lined the streets keeping people from passing onto the road, the tips of their pikes glistened in the mid-morning sun. Standing straight with a threatening look about them due to the stoic look on their faces. Applause roared down the line as the Prince came walking down the street, flanked by his royal guard, trailed by the Grand Inquisitor and his allies in the Order. His armour glistened like new as he waved to subjects on either side on the long walk from the castle. The uproar was exhilarating, it fueled him and he could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his body and he hadn't even reached the arena yet. Atop his horse, he couldn't help but allow a smile to cross his face.

This was his day.

---

Edge of the Circus

The girls dark skin betrayed her upbringing in far off lands, likely the Great Plains. She wore cloth around her head to try and disguise her features but her eyes betrayed the fear upon her face as she crouched down. They were searching for her and if she wasn't careful they would find her, and if they found her- she shivered slightly not even wanting to bear it any thought. Standing up she turned back to look at the North Gate as she saw a group of cloaked people searching for her, they pulled down hoods, checked behind people even going as far as disrobing some women to check for concealment. Though that easily could have been them abusing the situation in question.

Her heart spiked in hope as she saw the Captain of the Guard approach them, a wary look upon his face. Something exchanged between hands and the guard captain merely walked away. Shattering whatever hope she had. Behind her a tiger roared startling her, turning she backed away slightly. Missing the mass of human being behind her slamming into him. A strong arm grabbed her right arm, twisting her around. Pain shooting up her arm. "No! Let go, let go off me!" She screamed as people looked, none of them making eye contact with her as she cried. Slamming her free fist into the mans chest. Her small muscles making little gain.

"Stop making a scene! You're coming with me and you know it." He started dragging her, no matter how much she tried to drag her heels into it she was unable to stop his advance. Though it obviously became an annoyance as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She continued to pound on his back.

"Stupid girl, you cost a good man his right hand for losing you." He grumbled as he started marching back towards the Northern Gate into the city.

[josephb]

Leofric

The horse that Leofric was riding started to whinny, it was clearly agitated with how many people were surrounding her. There seemed to be more people in this street alone than in the whole of Yellowmoor and the horse clearly wasn’t used to it. Leofric patted her neck gently and whispered some calming words into her ears. “We need to find a place for the horses.” Leofric stated to his two companions who were behind him. The streets were covered with people and on every corner, there were stalls with merchants trying to sell their wares to all of the new faces to the city. Some of the items were genuine and others were useless overpriced trinkets that were sold to people gullible enough to believe the items were genuine. Leofric had lost count of the amount of times he had to break up fights between people who had been parted from their money and the hustlers who had taken the money when he was in command of the city guard.

They’d only been in the city for a few minutes when a woman in a red cloak approached them offering some concoction. Leofric smiled to himself realising he’d become the type of person who was a stranger to this city, but he was a stranger to this city now. Buildings had been destroyed; others had been extended; the people had changed. Leofric forgot how quickly the city moved after living in the Great Plains for so long which moved at the pace of snail. Greytry would have dozens of new buildings up by the time Yellowmoor made one. They stopped their horses for a minute to speak to the woman. Leofric, even though he thought it was going to just be a drink with a few spices in it was intrigued by her. “So, what makes it so special?” Leofric simply said trying to see her face properly with most of it hidden by the hood.

“Stamina eh?” Michael spoke up from behind him and he was deep in thought. “Well, I could use some extra stamina for tonight.” Michael then let out a dirty laugh looking at his friends. Rolland just sighed and Leofric shook his head but smiled at him. Michael started to rummage around in one of his pockets for money before being interrupted.

“You three!” A voice shouted. “You three on the horses!” The three turned around to see guards approaching them. “Do you think it’s a smart idea to block half the road, just to have a chat?” There was four of them and the one in front who was speaking was the oldest and looked in charge. “Pull your hoods down and answer.”

Leofric hesitated for a moment then obliged with the request and pulled down his hood. “Sorry my friend, we’ll move on now.” Leofric said, nodding at the guard who was staring at his face.

“What’s your name?” The guard said blocking the way for them. He was clearly trying to figure out where he knew Leofrics face from. It didn’t take long for Leofric to realise the guards face though, when he was still living in the city, this guard was just a recruit at the time. Leofric didn’t believe he had changed so much since leaving or was the guard just not that bright?

“John.” Was all Leofric said.

“And where are you from… John?” The guard said John like he didn’t quite believe that was his name.

“A small town, two days ride east of here. My big ugly friend here wanted to make some money in the tournaments.” Leofric pointed to Michael. “And we thought we’d accompany him for the morale support.” The guard just carried on staring into Leofrics eyes racking his brain from where he knew Leofric from. “We’re just trying to get our bearings; we’re looking for a place in the city to leave our horses. Can you point us in the right direction?”

The annoyance was clear to see on the guard’s face. “Five minutes ride down the street, there’s a big tavern with a stable. Most smart people leave horses outside of cities though. Now move!” Leofric smiled and moved on, after a few moments he looked back to see the guard in a heavy discussion with the other guards with two of them rushing off.

“That is not a good sign… we need to see if some of our old friends are still around and hide out there for a little bit.” Leofric said the last part in a hushed voice to his friends not paying much attention whether the woman was still with them.

Tags: @psych0pomp

[Jamesyco]

Eisen

---

North Gate

He continued to mozy on forward through the crowd, the ones talking of brothels were being yelled at for their horses. He just listened, his hair flowing lightly with the small gusts that managed to continue through the streets, as he was tall enough to feel them without any hindrances. He turned back in the direction he was walking, and.

Whack, his face had collided with the lower half of a sign. He was dumbstruck as he continued to walk through it, and when he let it pass over his head, it hit him again. He stopped and slowly bent his knees to where he was under the low hanging sign, looking up at it. Damn signs, why must people hang them so low. He moved closer to a wall as he just rested himself there, this was a new world and he was not enjoying it that much. First, some girl was stomping on his foot, he was not very suited for battle because of his extra clothing, but he did have on some metal covers underneath the furs and cloths that wrapped his foot.

But, then the sign was what was a real mood ender, his nose hurt as did the ridge between his neck, and his head. It was swore from the backswing of the sign. Thankfully no one from the store or building came outside to complain about him, but there were some snickers and laughs from behind him. His eyes were closed, as just wanted to cool himself off. It did not work, and he just listened to the people around him complain or make fun of him. There was no way to get around it, he was huge, his stupidity cost him this decency of having a pleasant trip but now it was ruined.

He looked at the sign as his eyes reopened, and he narrowed them a bit. It looked like some form of a woman pulling a long dress up her bent leg, what kind of foolish place is this, he wished he had learned how to read the local language, and not just have the ability to speak it. He decided not to find out what kind of place this was, and he started to hurry back to his place mozying down the street, but unable to find himself really. This was massive, this was more than anything he had really gotten himself into. He was used to seeing cities in the distance, or large groups of people in a large field, but not confined to streets. He hated it, there was no place to relax, no place to be away from people, it smelled of piss, sweat, shit, and anything else foul that his mind could think of. The animals in the street are likely to add more to this.

He felt a pull on his cloak again, and he looked down to see the little child, pulling on his robes, it had been going on for some time now since he had been leaning against the wall, and he thought of it as some sign from above. But no, it was the child once again, and she had led him out into the street. He had not realized he had gone so far away from the wall, but as soon as the child was noticed, it fled into the depths of the crowd around him. But, the girl had headed towards the horses, likely to try and beg, or steal. Using him as some form of trap or protection as he was a massive thing indeed. Luckily he had not really heard the people calling him, freak, and giant. Telling him the circus was one way or another. He honestly did not care at that point. He just began to walk once again. The child could have her choice of what to do, but he had somewhere to be, or at least he hoped he did at that moment.

There was a scream, outside the gate nearby, he had not gone that far apparently, but outside it, he saw several people stop as he did, but most of them continued. He did as well, turning back around, looking at the horses seeing a small patch in the crowd head towards the group of horses, and he kept walking once again. Wishing to be away from this area. And hopefully, to get out of the city as soon as he was ready.

Tags :
@josephb
@psych0pomp

[Renny]

Oz

---

_{Greytry - Edge of the Circus, Kingdom of Etrid | @Sep}

Ozymandias was walking about the very edge of the circus, his book no longer in hand but now stuff inside his satchel. Turned out the black beast was being particularly fickle, though that had less to do with the beast and more about Oz's inability to keep his excitement under wraps. He tried his best to keep the urge buckled and strapped down but it oozed in droves off him and the animals, sensitive as they were, reacted to it appropriately. Humans were different, they felt it, he had seen them, but their rational minds or bravado typically pushed them to ignore it. That was all the better for the Grim Jester and himself; his victims often left themselves wide open to him.

Before he had realized it, he was amongst a crowd of people, animals, and odors. A tiger roared nearby, not too far, and some screaming or protesting had mingled in with the babbling rapture. It was much too loud but Oz had nearly perfected the art of seeming unbothered. His gaze flitted about him until he caught sight of man tossing a dark-skin woman over his shoulder. Her struggling groans reminded him of his last victim; it would be a month in three days. And that was pushing the killer in him a bit far. Maybe...

And then he felt the most devious part of him come alive. It brought a sparkle to the detached calm in his eyes. It would be quick, he'd decided, cause he had everything he needed. His hand found the mask in his satchel. The crowd of people were manifesting a taste of chaos itself. People were dipping in and out of eyesight; large animals displaced noise here and there. Oz paused and through a shimmer of glass-like dust a knife formed in the palm of his hand. He smiled once more and with a deft hand, he flipped the tip onto his index finger. Conditions had been set upon creation; once the knife had stopped moving it was to vanish. The Mask often appeared on his face when he felt he could get away with it; the jester's face after all was divine. The joyous smile and malicious eyes were his soul's reflection.

At worst, the girl will be blamed. At best, she will be saved. Your life hangs in the hands of chance. A grave laughter bounced in his head. The throw was quick, precise, strong. He had threw it through the opening sitting between three passing circus hands. It sliced through, a whisper on the wind as it aimed for the man's cranium. If it missed, he figured another try wouldn't hurt too much.

[Kazemitsu]

Not much changed with the view as Feng moved through the city at a slow pace. Shopping stalls, people, guards, armed men and women, the occasional horse or dog. Was it because this was a special day or was the city always like this? Who wanted to live with all of this damned noise?! Either way he was making his way to a rather enormous building, much larger than shops and houses. By now he had finished the meat on the ham he had and a shiny white bone was all that remained.

Cracking it between his fingers he raised it up and sucked the marrow out as he took note of what was possibly an important person considering the guards around him. Shiny unblemished armor, atop a well kept horse, an old frail man trailing behind, and guards. Was this the soon to be king? He seemed...young and inexperienced. Well the only way to gain experience was to do things, the young man had his whole life ahead of him to become a good king.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to follow along and possibly get to the coliseum. He kept his distance but his height didn't exactly let him blend in with the crowds. Although he could have fallen back further, there weren't that many people on horseback with shiny armor...

[BigPapaBelial]

@Renny

Q'Ral Dinrah

It's a steady gait that takes the tall being to the grounds of the circus. And to it's untrained eye, no surprise really, he saw only the glitz and glamour of the circus, and no undertones if there were any. The tall person enters the edges of the circus with a rubber necking look as he peers about at the tent and any of the attractiosns about grounds. Truly could be an easy mark. Who knows in the end. The big man hums, hearing the sounds of beasts in the back, and the chatter of the circus crews.

Yes this is one of the things that Q'Ral came to see. A soft-folk circus. Marches of the soft-folk style. Try and get an idea of the soft-folk culture and lifestyle. And since getting to Etrid, this is the most interesting these he's seen since watching a man several days to the south breaking a wild horse to the saddle.

But this, this seemed quite nice indeed. Perhaps he'd get to see a show. A performance of some kind. Any kind really. Get to know these soft-folks amusements. Q'Ral himself could settle for an evening of sculpting but a circus sounded lovely. So he started to roam the grounds curiously, wanting to see the sights.

[Sep]

Circus outside Etrid
_{Interacting with @Renny}

The young girls eyes flashed orange for a brief moment as the blade spun invisibly through the crowd. As it neared, in time with the flashing of her eyes, the blade altered course slightly mid-flight. Landing squarely in the back of the man who had been carrying her, he gulped as the shock shot through his system, his eyes going wide, arms falling to his side as he fell to his knees. She rolled from atop him before he had even finished collapsing on the ground. A bloodstain starting to spread across his back. Initially nobody reacted as the girl sped off through the crowd towards the main circus tent, until one person noticed and screamed. People began running over to the body, a panic in the air. Someone moved their hand over the body, finding the invisible knife and then recoiling. "MAGIC! MAGIC!"

Screams took flight through the air as people ran in various other directions. The mans companions spotted him go down from their position at the gates and all ran towards the circus, their right arms in below their cloaks, obviously grabbing the hilts of weapons as they raced towards the circus.

The girl ducked between the people fleeing, dodged from side to side her small stature allowing her to navigate the crowd with ease.

---

Coliseum

The Prince stood waiting in the wings, a massive grate ahead of him. Sword on left hip, shield in his left hand. Breathing deeply. Father favoured his left leg, so go in leading with your right. Keep him off-balance, unsuspecting. The roar of the crowd was as intoxicating as it was nerve-wracking. He could hear people cheering his name in chorus, voices of all types in thunder. Then a deathly silence fell over the crowd, no doubt the Grand Inquisitor had taken the podium, raising his arms to hush the crowd as all attention was diverted to him. The trial was about to begin. His voice sounded over the crowd, caveats and specially crafted instruments throughout the arena carried his voice from the one focal point.

"People, my people! Today is a great day, for our Prince comes of age, and it is time to make him King. However, there is one trial that must be completed beforehand. To judge any monarchs worth he must face the Terror of Etrid, a beast defeated by our cities great founder at the dawn of the second age and every reigning monarch since, so I present you... our PRINCE!"

The steel gate opened and Althor walked out into the right, the cheering of the crowd resumed as he waved his arm up towards the crowds. His heart was practically in his throat. His father, grandfather, great grandfather and all the generations before had managed to defeat the beast. They however had all been older, he was the youngest monarch to face the beast, there was nothing in the rules for what was to happen if he lost, as no Prince had ever lost. To lose would likely mean death.

The cheering continued to thrum in his ears as the gate directly across the coliseum opened, and a great lumbering beast walked out into the sunlight roaring. Old scars across its body from killing blows. Nobody knew why but the beast could only be subdued and never slain, it had once been the pride of the Palace for its capability as a Gladiator but as it learnt and became stronger it became harder to control and so now its fights were reserved as a rite of passage for the would be king.

Althor swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat. He could defeat the beast, he brought his left leg back pushing his right forward against his base instincts. The beast would remember his father, and he had to have the element of surprise, drawing his sword with his right arm he raised it high into the air. "Come at me beast, your King would have words."

[psych0pomp]

| 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 : Greytry - Etrid | 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 : Leofric & Company | 𝑝𝑖𝑜𝑡𝑟'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑑 : Still Hungry |

Fyg should have expected the lewd joke. She’d phrased the poultice’s properties to humor the darker parts of one’s mind. Still, she found it amusing. The cities in the Great Plains weren’t like Greytry. They were more skeletal, allowing for much space between the bones of buildings. Yet, she imagined there were brothels here like anywhere else across the lands of men. And she wasn’t one to judge. The grass wytch might have considered giving them a bit of attention herself had she the coin or the time. No, she wanted to see this coronation, and she needed the money for that.

Her back stiffened like the mast of a ship when a guard’s voice piqued above the rest. Piotr let out a disturbed coo. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time to slink off into the shadows. The guard approached them, asking for the removal of their hoods. Her one visible eye went wide. There was little about her visage that would make anyone give more than a glance. She wasn’t pretty in the way that tailored folk like the guards and the men on horses seemed to enjoy. Hewn from the rough living, her attractiveness was tucked away into her aloofness. The only thing about her that might have raised alarm was the slight curvature of her ears. Yet, Fyg didn’t think herself an elf or elf related. A few people had made comments about them out of interest, and she’d only shrugged. Still, that night on the plains, and the inscrutable eyes of the Inquisitors and their ilk made her fearful.

It only took a moment for her to realize that the guards cared little for her, but instead were interested in the men on horseback. Fyg might have huffed and rolled her eye had pride not shushed her and urged her to move on. There were plenty of other marks to be found in Greytry. She didn't need to further bother these men as they’d announced their affairs, and the guard seemed happy with all that. Yet, there was a clandestine way in which the men spoke. It tickled the curious part of Fyg's mind. So, she slunk alongside them into the city proper. They’d asked for a tavern, and she guessed it wouldn’t hurt to locate someplace for gossip and ale if she needed it in the future. Her mission, now, was most pressing. Fyg wanted to see the Grand Inquisitor himself. She wanted to know what the figurehead behind her mother’s disappearance looked like. She wasn’t a cruel woman, but she enjoyed wearing grudges like the latest fashion.

Fyg looped the potion back on her belt and filed in line, palming her staff in one hand and the sprouted seed in the other. She might still have use for it. The consideration fled, however, when the words MAGIC ignited into the air like a wellspring. Her tanned face went white. She dropped the seed and stomped it, squelching the life within. Quickly, she grabbed her staff with both hands and squeezed. And for the second time that day, she found that she was not the focal point of a guard’s call. Figures breezed past her and she heard calls for people to head to the circus. Her lips twisted. I'm acting like someone that is begging to be caught... dramatically.

Another call of fanfare caught her ears, and she became aware of the coliseum alighting with jubilee. Dammit, the coronation. Piotr scrambled, his small claws grabbing onto the hood of her cloak and dragging it down with his weight as he flipped inside. The curve of his form caused the hood to distend awkwardly. Fyg tugged at it until it straightened, but the shoulder of her cloak covered him like a malformed hump. Fine, she’d be that sort of potion peddler, the type you’d lock see in a bell tower.

”Fine men,” she said. ”I won’t keep you, as you seem to have business and some of it might pressing. In a possible literal sense, but I digress." She cleared her throat. "But to answer your question, it’s the sort of elixir that’ll embolden you and invigorate you from your travels. I’m only asking for a small sum, much less than I’d usually charge.” Piotr let out a muffled coo. Yes, her hump was now talking. ”If you were not aware, the prince’s coronation is today, and I wish to attend. This is less a philanthropic venture of mine and more a trade of services for minor wealth. I’ll even throw in a bit of advice.” She eyed the toddling urchin that was making its way towards the group, followed by a man of large stature and build. Maybe the child's guard or extortionist of sorts? “Types like those will just take your coin by glancing at your handsome faces and assuming you're daft. Use this time to hide your coin purses closer to your chest.” She smiled, tilting her head up and revealing features—younger than one might expect but older than any fair maiden. “That alone is worth the paltry entrance fee to an event that one would be foolish to miss.”

| 𝑡𝑎𝑔(𝑠) : @josephb @Jamesyco |

[Jamesyco]

Eisen

---

North Gate

---

The man simply kept moving forward, he wanted to see something, yet he has forgotten, and would follow the crowd. He did hear scream but did not pick up on them until he felt some quicker movement in the crowd to which once again, he stopped like a giant pillar of a pier against a tide of people as the word, 'magic' was yelled out behind him. He did not care for such words as his people still used the old ways or at least some of them. He did use, 'magic' as well although it was a simpler thing than what she had done, it was still potent for what it touched.

Eisen looked back at the scene unfolding behind him, as the crowd began to sway some and move away from where the man cried wolf, this was possibly going to be an exciting turn of events for him and those around him that he was not aware of yet, and he continued to look around at the crowd until he set of eyes that lead between him and the girl he had not cared to track within the crowd. It most be her parent, good, she could stop bugging him. He nodded to the face and turned once again to get further down the street with the new vigor that struck the crowd's direction.

This, this was going to be a long day he thought, first some girl was being mean with him for some unknown reason, then some loud and obviously unwelcome men were being hassled by the local authorities, but there was one bright side to this, a girl had found her mother by using him as a massive beacon in the mass of people. He had done his good service for the day, unannounced to him, she was likely begging, being a lure, or pickpocketing helpless individuals. Thankfully for his height, and his desire to his personal belongings in personal areas, he and his things, were safe from such pests.

There was cheering off in the distance, that he knew was where he was meaning to go, with the gate to his back and the lives of those in front of him, he started walking a quick pace, he wanted to see what it was, people would not stop them, in such quantity they were fluid and he was a shark pushing through it determined to reach its the destination, the crowd to him was the blood in the water. He smelled the city's stink around him and it was intoxicating with the terrible ferociousness that it had, he hated and loved it as it meant people were about, weak people, those that he could best and prove himself to some beautiful woman, he could fight and kill those weak men that thought themselves strong. Or, was he thinking too far ahead, was he being cocky and ambitious in his newfound youth outside of his motherland, far away from his home.

Then, one last thought came into his mind as he kept walking away from the part of the city he had seen, the only part he got to at that point, a small area just inside of a gateway. He was forsaking himself, he did not care about any of that, he cared about the crowds screaming in excitement. That is what he wanted to see, he wanted to see why, why people cheered and screamed at the top of their lungs. Was it some bout, some festival, it certainly wasn't a circus-like the one he left behind him.

@josephb@psych0pomp

[Renny]

Oz

---

_{Greytry - Edge of the Circus, Kingdom of Etrid | @BigPapaBelial @Sep}

Oz was use to being invisible and the commotion cause by the guard's death was expected. Among the panicking circus workers and rattled animals, Oz simple slipped away into the periphery of the masses. A commoner would have missed the orange glow of the girl's eyes, quick as they were but he was no ordinary person. What felt like a lifetime of avoiding detection, being aware of his surroundings, and always on the knife's edge afforded him skills akin to preternatural observation.

He strolled at a pace not considered unusual while keeping sight of the fleeing girl even as she ducked, dodged, and maneuvered to what she perceived as safety. The book he typically carried was held at chin-level as he feigned distraction. The girl he had saved was obviously more than lucky and less inclined to leave her escape up to chance; that level of desperation piqued Oz's interest in her. Though he was still unsure of whether he wanted to kill her or not yet.

Once he realized that the girl was traveling aimlessly, he picked up speed. A risky gamble for sure but he'd rather no one else take his prey, if that was what he'd decide about her. A quick gesture tightened his satchel against his chest as he joined the running girl. "If you're in need of help, I can find you a place to hide. This place is my home after all," he said gently, eyes straight ahead. "But first you must slow down, your speed arouses attention."

[josephb]

Leofric

As the distant cheers started to grow louder, the crowds in the street started to push even stronger and it was unsettling the horses even more. The woman was still with them and it turned out she was really wanting the money for the entrance to the arena. “Okay, okay, give my friends one of your poultices and I’ll pay for your entry.” Leofric stopped speaking for a second to think. Suddenly he jumped off his horse and took off his massive olive cloak, then chucked it onto his horse. Under his cloak he was wearing a plain leather gambeson and under that was chain mail, it was nothing compared to finely made ornamental armour he once wore as a commander, but it did its job and was less noticeable. There was a hatchet on his right side and he pulled a short sword from the baggage on the horse and attached it to the left side of his hip. “You two take my horse and see if you can hear any news at the tavern. If the lady here doesn’t mind, I’ll escort her to the arena.”

His two friends looked at each other unsurely before Rolland decided to speak. “Do you think that’s wise?” He looked over to the woman with the hood up not fully trusting her and not fully trusting the decision. “Would it not be better if we stuck together?”

“I didn’t think it would be possible to be more cautious than me Rolland.” Leofric let out a laugh, “But I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’ll be long anyway. I want to see how the young Prince gets on.” Leofric like every other citizen from Greytry knew what the Princes of Etrid had to do on their coronation and Leofrics curiosity had gotten the better of him. “Keep your hoods down anyway, I think we might be looking a bit too suspicious with our hoods up like we’ve got something to hide.” He said it quietly so only the three of them could hear and maybe the woman waiting for her money. “And if you manage to find my son before I return, give him a clout round the ear for me.” Leofric walked off before the two could say anything to him. He handed the money to the woman and said, “From the sounds of it we don’t have much time before it starts so stick with me.” Leofric, marching ahead went down an alleyway, knowing the shortcuts that people who weren’t familiar with the city wouldn’t know of and seeing that the people crowding in the streets weren’t from here the alleyways were rather quiet. He continued on to the arena hoping to himself that this prince might be worthy of the crown.

@psych0pomp