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Paths of Legend - Tragedy at Silvergard

crazy_monkey1956

First Post
The City of Azgund, capital of the Nation of Azgund

The capital city of Azgund is perhaps the most metropolitan of all the human cities, for it is the most open to other cultures and races. Situated on a high hill, the House of Lords and the House of Commons overlook a sprawl of urban activity several miles across. Spreading out across plains to the south, the city has had no reason to contain itself and, as the population has increased, so has the diameter of the city, spilling out over walls built every fifty years or so in vain attempts at either defense or simply to preserve some semblance of planning. The House of Lords is a grand edifice, supported by ivory-white pillars rising to a slightly peaked roof carved with stylized depictions of famous lords and ladies in battle. The House of Commons emits a more practical appearance, as befits the building where most of the governing of the land is actually accomplished.

The inner circle surrounding the hill is dominated by the Lords' Manor, a magnificent mansion where visiting Lords and Ladies reside while the House of Lords is in session. Private residences of wealthy Lords and merchants can also be found here, as well as the walled and guarded embassies of foreign lands. The most prominent of these is the Tureni embassy, thanks to the continued alliance between Turen and Azgund after the Shadow War. Also housed within these walls is the Thayvian embassy, its gothic tower jutting up beyond the walls, casting strange shadows on the city below.

Surrounding the central wealthy district is a residential area for the moderately wealthy, including the majority of the city's merchants, as well as adventurers who have settled down to retirement or civil service. A large swath of green cuts through this area, a miniature forest that houses the elven embassy, though no buildings in the traditional human sense can be found here. The wall surrounding this disctrict was partially dismantled a few hundred years ago to provide building materials for the House of Lords, so remnants of it can still be found by meandering the city streets.

The city sprawl meanders in a mostly southerly direction from this point, with the central road providing access to the markets, the common residences, warehouses, shops, and other points of interest scattered about in a seemingly chaotic array. Areas of particular note include the Adventurers' Guild compound, a fenced area housing a barracks, a guild member exclusive tavern, and various shops catering to the needs of guild members. Adjacent to the compound but not within it is the central office of the Explorer's League, a large, somewhat imposing structure where League members convene to plan expeditions and peruse the League's collection of maps and travelogues. The candle district, despite its unassuming name, is the city's seedy side where all manner of illicit activities can be found. It derives its name from the ladies of the night that conduct business here. The main thoroughfare through the area is lined with small apartments with a single window. If a candle is lit in the window, it means the occupant is open for business. If no candle is present, the occupant is with a client or not entertaining that evening. Some of the more randy adventurers will often brag about "putting out the candles" when they arrive in the city after a long adventure. Adorning the main thoroughfares of the city, interspersed at regular intervals, are "duel circles", twenty foot diameter circles set out by white stone pavers in the road. When a conflict or argument cannot be resolved or mediated, the parties involved may legally "fight it out" in a duel circle, officiated by any available city guard. The winner of the fight is considered the winner of the dispute. These duels often gather crowds quickly, especially when trained fighters are involved, or, better still, when the parties involved are wealthy enough to hire "proxies" to fight in their stead, the famed Azgundi Duelists.

The most recent wall of the city, erected hastily just prior to a series of attacks by orcish hordes at the onset of the Shadow War, stands at the outer edge of the city. Constructed of timbers harvested from forests to the south, the wall is sturdy and functional, but thoroughly unattractive. The House of Lords recently approved a project to upgrade the wall, replacing the timbers with stone scavenged from interior city walls, and quarried from Vedlund, a province just to the north of the city, simultaneously helping to bolster Vedlund's flagging economy as it took the brunt of the orcish attacks during the war.

Early morning finds the main southern gate of that wall open to travelers, forming an ever growing line of folks entering the city.

Aohdan, an adolescent centaur, finds himself standing in a long, somewhat smelly line of travelers making their way into the city. The sounds of livestock being taken to market mingle with the excited chatter of first time visitors to the city and the idle banter of regular travelers. Those around him give the centaur a fairly wide berth, while openly staring at him in amazement. Evidently, most of the travelers have never seen a centaur before.

Further back in the slow line, Johen, a Tureni druid, finds himself surrounded by other travelers, crowded and jostled by several seemingly impatient merchants carrying or leading livestock and produce.

Muzdum, a mountain dwarf, finds himself in the line as well, though, perhaps thankfully, he is surrounded by folk even shorter than himself. A halfling family, complete with wagons, riding dogs, donkeys with loaded pack saddles, and a general jangling of a small mobile village, dominates this stretch of the line and seems to have extended an unspoken invitation to any short folk that happen to find themselves lost in the line.

Approaching the back of the line, though not yet finding himself in it, stands Valen. As he watches the line is joined by yet another wagon, this one laden with barrels of wine, one of the main commodities of the mid-western provinces of Azgund.

Already within the city's walls, Alaric finds himself running yet another errand for Entan, his teacher in the magical arts. Specifically, Entan has tasked him with delivering a hand written order for a variety of spell components to the supplier situated near the Adventurers' Guild compound.

Corath, having spent the evening in one of the city's many dancehalls, observes that most of the participants from the evenings activities seem to have left, also observes that morning has arrived as she exits the establishment.

Estelle wakes up in one of the city's hostels, where one can find a space on the floor to lay out a bedroll for a copper, near the taverns, dance halls, and gambling houses that make up this particular area of the city.

Though the two do not know each other, William wakes up in the same hostel. Most of the others laid out in the hostel are still sleeping off the effects of a night of carousing.

OOC: In your initial post, please give a detailed description of your character, including the arrangement of any obvious weapons, armor, and other gear. Also include the character's motivations for being in or coming to the city.
 
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Voda Vosa

First Post
A strudy dwarf stands in what seems to be an ocean of halflings. His horned helmet only allow the others to see the dwarf eyes, blue like the clean skyes of the montains from where he came. His flamered bread is very clean and smoth, hanging over his chest and bely, covering partialy his armor, whih shines with the morning sun. His shield is well tided to his back, making him a wall for the short halflings after him in the line. Muzdum holds his hammer tied to his belt, and his backpack on his left shoulder.
The smell of anther human city filled his nose. Filthy smell he thinks always. In his search for his missing brother, Muzdum has walked into many towns, searched in many cities, but he has not succed. Maybe... Maybe this city would provide him with a little more luck.
His belly stats to make some noise, so Muzdum think its a good time for some moring food. And beer, any time is a good time for a beer!
 

Helfdan

First Post
The driver of the wine-barrel laden cart looked curiously at the figure approaching the road from the wilderness. He was tall and lean, but broadshouldered. The hood of his forest-green cape was thrown back, revealing a clean-shaven thoughtful face with cold blue eyes and blonde hair shorn at the shoulders. His garments were plain, and dark colored, but his high soft boots and bronze-studded leather jerkin were in excellent condition. A light pack, a bedroll, a six-foot yew bow, and a quiver of grey-goose shafts hung at his back. The long hilt of the sword at his belt jutted from his cloak. ((OOC: the dagger at his right side and the iron axe at the back of his broad leathern belt were hidden by the cloak, but are easily seen if he doffs it)). He looked at the long line heading into the city, and sighed before joining it. His long stride had the unconscious swagger of an athlete -- or a swordsman.

Valen Sablewood had a moment of doubt, on seeing the crowds and the paved roads. But he could hear his now-departed father's lessons: "Footprints are useful, but not the only spoor your prey will leave. A ranger casts for ALL types of sign." Yet it was not finding Johen that concerned the young warrior -- it was what the young druid had to say about his master's murder and his sudden disappearance.
 
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shadowmask

First Post
Following her normal routine in her human guise, Corath strolls toward the south gate. She receives several odd looks as she changes her gait often. As she settles into an elegant glide along the main thoroughfare of this district, she begins practicing her more subtle facial expressions. Long ago she learned to avoid those postures, expressions, etc that garnered hostile or aggressive responses from other passersby. She is currently attempting to master the emotion of interest, and had some small success with it the evening before. She continues to observe the people around her, filing some of the more intense interactions into her mind for later perusal and analysis.

As she arrives at the gate, she finds a quiet corner to sit in and continues her observations. "I'm still having trouble feigning fatigue and exhaustion. If I am to fit in with mortals, I need to behave as if I am one." With that quick decision, her goal for the day is set, and she settles her tall frame for an extended day of learning and observation.

To all passersby, Corath is a rather tall, slender, deeply tanned woman with brown hair and eyes. She is obviously not a “regular girl.” She wears leather armor and carries a pack with her wherever she goes. The one oddity about her, other than her distant stare, is that she carries no weapons.
 

Jemal

Adventurer
William stretches and stands, donning his Chain shirt. He was glad to see nobody had tried to take it in the night. Perhaps the people of this city were not all thieves and cuthroats as he had heard.

The tall, well-built man stands and goes through a few minutes of excercise to loosen up, before gathering his few possessions. He'd received a letter that looked very official, which had quite simply told him that the path to truth would begin here. It said much more than that, of course, but that was the part that mattered. He looked around, scratching at the stubble on his chiseled chin. Not here, obviously, he thought, and so with Sword at his hip and Shield on his back, both ready to be swung into action at a moments notice, the young paladin looked the part, seeming to stand taller even than his (rather impressive) stature as he headed out into the city, looking into every shadow as he passed, feeling eyes on him.
 
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Amaury

First Post
By the High Forest, what a crowd! So many of them! And this city! These houses,
these streets, these palaces! How am I ever going to find his murderers! Herruwen, help me!
What should I do? Where should I start? Who..... could I trust?..
thinks Johen very nervously
before realising suddenly that the tall man a few meters ahead of him in the queue,
is not human after all but a centaur!!!

A centaur??? A centaur in Azgund??! What.. what could he be doing here?.. He's probably
as lost as I am.. Hum, maybe..
thinks Johen who walks slowly, waiting his turn to go
through the city gates.

Johen is a young man in his early twenties. He has long brown-reddish hair with a short beard
that is split in two 3-inches-long braids. His hair also has two thin braids decorated by yellow
and black bird feathers. His originally pale skin is now well tanned, a sign of his exposure to
direct sunlight due to his extensive travelling.
His light green eyes and his face features make Johen a rather handsome young man.
However, a smile is rarely seen on his face. He seems both sad and determined and only
softens up to an hawk that accompanies him, resting on a leather pad fixed on his left shoulder.

Johen is tired. The travel from Turen has been so long. He's slept on the rough most of the
time but has been lucky enough not to be attacked or bothered by strangers. His looks are
somewhat very common, though he looks heavily armed for a traveller: a scimitar hanging
from a belt, a wooden shield and shortspear in his left hand, and a serious-looking club in his
right hand. A dark brown leather armor covers his tunic whilst he holds a wooden shield in his
left hand. The shield is decorated with primitive drawings of trees and stars.

His clothes are dirty and slightly damaged by the journey.

Highflyer the hawk, sitting on his shoulder, is also pretty nervous. Forest's noises and smells
have been replaced by a variety of noises and smells. All very unpleasant. His feet jump a bit
on his master's shoulders. He draws a number of stares from the crowd but the centaur
is definitively the centre of attraction!

Anyone looking at Johen will have noticed that his obvious nervosity has somewhat diminished
and that his eyes are now locked on the centaur a few meters away from him.

[sblock=Johen's picture]http://www.enworld.org/attachment.php?attachmentid=29275[/sblock]
 
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Yttermayn

First Post
At first, Aohdan was relieved at the space given him by the other travelers waiting in line with him. However, as he began to realize he was drawing a disproportionate amount of attention, he started to shift about unconciously. His reddish-brown flanks started twitching nervously under the piecemeal leather armor that had been custom made to fit his unusual body shape. The handle of the sheathed longsword at his waist made an excellent distraction for his nervously clenching hand. Aohdan knew he needed to relax a bit. He blew out a great sigh and shivered, then busied himself by tieing up his long, straight dark brown hair into a tail, and adjusting his panniers (saddlebags) and equipment. The javelins he kept in a hard leather tube strapped to his pack had the tendancy to spill out when he was running, so he checked that it was upright again and not caught on something. Once he got into the city, he hoped to find an open minded blacksmith that could rig him a better carrying method for the javelins, as well as re-shoe his shaggy tan hooves for a few gold.
 
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ethandrew

First Post
With a yawn and a stretch, Estelle wakes. She unfurls her long deep brown hair from its tie and lets it cascade down her back. Immediately afterwards her fists ball up into her eyes, rubbing the sleep furiously away. Without warning a second yawn wracks her body and she screws her eyes closed tightly while her mouth gapes open, displaying perfect teeth punctuated by pronounced canines. She rolls off her bedroll and curls it up tightly, securing it to her pack before hauling it onto her shoulders. Checking her hips, she notes both daggers remained untouched, and so with a sly smile and a skip in her step, she walks out under the morning sky.
 

Arkhandus

First Post
Alaric yawns as he ambles through the streets, already growing congested by workers and merchants, struggling like him to start earning their meals for the day while rubbing sleep from their eyes. Alaric wonders for the third time this week about just when the old wizard actually sleeps, seeing as Entan's up at the crack of dawn every day to set his apprentices to work. 'And I'm not even an apprentice anymore, old man!' Alaric thinks.

Still, he presses on through the growing crowd of laborers and early-rising merchants, heading for the Guild's storehouse. Two years a journeyman and he's still running errands to start earning a living. The young man sighs, eyes downcast.

Alaric is a young man of fairly average height and build, though a tad stocky with his broad shoulders and torso. He appears to have none of the muscle a farmer or other laborer would possess, but still looks like an active fellow, tanned by the sun and light on his feet. Well, except for the fact that he stoops a bit under the burden of his heavy backpack. Alaric has fairly average features and seems to be of pure Azgundi lineage, with fair skin, dark blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and sideburns.

He lacks the grooming and posture of a highborn Azgundi, but appears reasonably clean and presentable. Alaric wears traveling clothes of brown and gray, and a many-pocketed black vest over his jerkin, with a leather cloak hanging from his shoulders for shelter against rain. A broad-rimmed hat shades his face from too much sun while he's on the road, adding to his lowborn appearance. Though not wealthy, Alaric at least appears to carry a decent number of supplies and materials in his pockets, backpack, and three belt pouches, as well as a dagger sheathed at his belt and a light crossbow that hangs behind his right shoulder. A map or scroll case is strapped to each of his thighs, and a few waterskins hang from the front of his vest. He's certainly well-prepared for traveling and the rigors of the road, though all that gear weighs him down and slows his stride.

For all his preparedness, Alaric wasn't making much progress yet, and still needs to find a chance to get moving out of town. Buying that crossbow a while back probably wasn't so good an investment in the short-term, he reflects. It takes so much coin to make a trip cross-country....
 

Voda Vosa

First Post
In his way to some place a little less crowed, Muzdum tries to make place for his voluminous body between the passing commoners.
"Watch out lad!"
he shouts to a young human that tried to thrust him to pass trough. The dwarf was a moving boulder, balancing his weight to one side, he pushes the boy, that ended up face to the ground. <Shards! This humans are like kobolds... but worst...> he was thinking when he almost get pushed aside like the boy, by a buch of peoples staring at a horse with a naked human riding it.
<Wait a damn minute! That's no horse! By my grandmothers bread! A centaur!> he thinks amased.
Pushing the also amased people to a side, Muzdum makes his way to clearly see the creature. With his mouth wide open he stares at the source of the the congestion in the street. He looked at him from tail to head, as he approches slowly.
"Well that's nothing ya' get ta' see from where Ah' came from. What's yar' name big mate?" he asks the centaur, with a big smile on his face. He had never seen sucha creature, and of course never spoke to one.You know what the say: The curiosity killed the dwarf
 

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