Western Istan Isles.
Ishenvale City Gates.
Start of the 3rd Harvest.
112th Era.
Two guards with colored tunics over their mail coats stand in front of a large wooden gate. The doors connect to a large 5 story wall that wraps around the City. The clear hustle and bustle of the innards echo out, disrupting the peace of the Istan fields.
Alyce slows the horse just out of sight of the guards and hops off leading the beast behind a tree. "Why did we stop?" Cylika asks. Alyce pets the horse and points to the saddle.
"The design is that of a guardsmen horse, and the breed is most likely exclusive to the guards as well. No horse I've seen connected to a trade caravan has had such a coat or saddle." Alyce takes out an apple she had picked up along the way. "If we approach the gate with this horse the guards would arrest us and this time we'd be executed on the spot. So I'll leave it here, he's smart enough to wander over to the gate eventually. And we'll be in the crowd by then."
Cylika nods, and hops off the horse, she pats the beast once on the side. "Thanks for the ride. Take care horsey!" The guards stand completely still, staring directly ahead. They barely acknowledge the two girls walking closer to their city. They both drop their spears into an X formation.
"Halt!" One guard yells.
The other looks to the large tower next to the gate and calls out "A Rabizen and Helf-Elven approach the main gate!"
"What business do you have in our City."
Alyce takes a step forward. "Mornin' we're with the Blacksmith guild. We're here to learn under your city's blacksmith for the next 3 harvests." The two guards look to each other and look back to the two girls.
"Hehe, didn't think girls could become Blacksmiths. If you were sent here by the Guild you should have an escort."
Alyce smirks "Yes, I was just as surprised as you are that they let me join. Our escort was attacked by a group of bandits on the way here, the commander of our transport sent us alone on foot and we ran into a patrol. They brought us as close to here as they could, seeing as they didn't want to leave their post." The guards chuckle a little at the obvious lie.
"Alright then. Show us your papers. If you don't-" Alyce steps forward with two tickets in hand. She passes them to guard and he reads them. "Huh, Maribelle Stockhel and Stemford Dreklinea, of the Blacksmith guild... Due to meet with Yorham of Ishenvale for a 3 harvest apprenticeship." The guard looks to his comrade puzzled. Then calls back up to the tower. "Open the gates! Let them through!" A large thud is followed by the large gate's moan as it opens. Alyce motioned for Cylika to follow who had the same expression as the guard. They entered the city, and the gates shut behind them.
"How did you do that!" Cylika demands as Alyce begins walking into the city. Alyce walks back over to Cylika and hands her one of the tickets.
"Oh what? These tickets? Found them on a caravan that was attacked. The name Stemford could've been a male name so I picked both just in case I messed up. I had a whole thing about how it was my friend and he died trying to save me or something." Cylika blankly stares at Alyce, and then moves her attention to the City.
Large multi-storied houses lined up along several roads. Nearly identical to the apartments that spanned the slums but these were bigger. Much bigger. The houses were lined with decorative wood beams and their white panels glowed in the freshly shining sun. The crowd was filled with all races from across Esemo. A few Furrken passed by with baskets on top of their heads filled with fruit Cylika had never seen before. Another set of Elv passed by, Cylika covered her ears as she watched them pass, they all wore elegant robes, blue, purple, red, each sparkled like stars and the jewels adorned on them only made them more colorful. The majority of the crowd however were Demys, nothing to write home about. Most were dirty yet still wore smiles on their faces, they all had common shirts with vests and doublets. Some wore necklaces and earrings. All Cylika could think while watching these people was "Damn, so much shit I can steal!"
As Cylika awoke from her daydream about swimming in a pool of these precious items, she noticed her companion, Alyce had left. Cylika looked towards the ticket still in hand, and thought to herself. "That's got to be where she's going... Ehh, she can wait up on me. I have some items to... 'pick up' on the way. Hehehe..."
Alyce wandered the city streets. The scribbles on the signs making no sense to her. "Dammit... Why can't they use pictures for different stores. Seriously." The illiterate rabbit made her way around the block, then raised her ear. The distinct clank of a hammer on steel was one she could never mistake. She was supposed to be a Blacksmith after all. She wandered in the direction of the sound and found it. The blacksmith Yorham, a friend from a long time ago.
She stepped into his open air workshop. He was smashing a steel rod that glowed like orange astrel, before he placed it back into the coolant. "Hm, workin' with mere steel now, Yorham? What ever happened to the good 'ol days workin' with Azimite?" The large shirtless man stopped his process. And thought himself for a moment.
"That accent. I only know one family that possesses it. And I only know one little girl who wields it so barbarically." Yorham turns around, but his first gleeful face turns to a gloomy reaction. "Oh, I'm sorry lass. I thought you were someone else. But she wore a bright pink mane, apologies. Are you here for an order?" Alyce shakes her head and laughs.
"Hehe, yeah she does. But sometimes she likes to dye her hair now again to stay out of the arms of the law." Yorham returns back to his gleeful expression.
"Oh! My darlin' Alyce! How have you been! How are your parents, my how you've grown. Last time I saw you I don't think you had those scars." Yorham threw aside the unfinished steel rod and stood up. "Please Alyce, come inside you must tell me everything! Especially what you are doing here in Ishenvale!" Alyce nods her head and enters Yorham's home.
He pulls up an extra chair to a small knee high table and motions for Alyce to sit, he walks over to his icebox. "Would you like some ale? I believe you're of age to drink by now."
Alyce giggles "I'm only 18, but why not, never stopped you before from offering me some of your Grunbeard Mead." Yorham lets out a hearty laugh and pours two tankards of ale. He sets them on the table and takes a gulp out of his cup. Alyce follows suit.
"Alright lass. Now, what are you doin' 'ere?!"
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