Open Chronicles A Trip to Tirnua

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Azlat Ushus

Priestess of the Draconic Order
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Azlat's excursions had taught her much about the recently rediscovered civilization that lay north of Malakath. Or rather, the lack of it. Though the portal stones became usable a year ago, the attack upon their city had been her first introduction to the northern outsiders, and she had paid dearly for it. Perceptions began low, and all she had seen had confirmed her held attitude towards those barbarians. Why, they could not agree upon gods, nor tolerate Azlat's differences of divine opinion. None of them had it right, anyway.

Confirming bias had not been the only matter she'd learned. One kingdom, Route, had surprised her as the lone exception to these views. She even had both entire continents mapped. It was easy enough – she simply bought one. There was an entire guild dedicated to cartography, and not only did they map their continents, they also had a map of Malakath that was unsettling in its accuracy. It had been but a year since the attack when Azlat arrived knowing nothing, when all the while they had seemingly known everything. Thagretis was clearly marked, they knew of the portal stone there. There were two more such stones that lay on Malakath, one near the Valley of Decay, and one near a city called Tirnua. Among the few notable settlements beyond Thagretis, the city was located to the west, halfway across the continent. Azlat had known of it, but distance had formerly made it all but inaccessible to her. Now, however, the portal stones that connected Thagretis to the north connected both to Tirnua. Aware that the trip was now easy to make, Azlat planned one without delay.

* * *​

Appearing before the city, the shadow of a towering pedestal cast over the land. It was surely a strange structure of times long past, now unused and empty. Her draconic eyes cast up, Azlat couldn't help but gaze for a brief moment before forcing them away. If the merchants caught her doing that their prices would double. It was too certain a sign that she'd not been here before.

Concerns that her appearance would strike the denizens as odd were quelled when she saw them. There were many species of varied appearances, all speaking Kalar or other unidentified languages. Azlat barely spoke any of it, and hadn't done much to learn in preparation for her impulsive trip. She seemed to be the only human around – were there any others, they were a rarity. Orcs were present, and they were the only familiar sight she saw. Most she knew had known common, and so she figured they would, too.

She just needed to find a stall that sold something convenient. Better to bother a merchant placated by the presence of money. One merchant sold weapons, far too heavy to be practical. Another had a variety of skinned and roasted critters on skewers, all of which looked different in species and none of which appeared the slightest bit appetizing. Beyond the row of stalls was a busy building that appeared to be a tavern, with an orcish woman sitting behind the bar. That would do perfectly. Azlat figured she could use the drink.

She strode into the bar, making her way through the thick crowd that had gathered. Odd music was played by minstrels, and it was not as strange as the music of the northerners but it was still strange nonetheless. All around her was the sound of incoherent babble that she could not understand, all incomprehensible words as she waited by the small crowd at the bar. The bartender served them in Kalar, and Azlat waited as she served one patron and then another before finally granting Azlat her attention with a gruff turn towards her.

“Pardon me, do you spe͠ak any Common?” Azlat asked, hoping for an answer in common and someone that spoke it.

“Balak tar?”

...Maybe not.

Jezebeth Af Malakath
 
The venture for Jezebeth was quite different as she traveled through these lands by simply walking regardless of the danger. Luckily enough; she had quite the strength to push forth but eventually by her means; she reached the aforementioned city. A hooded woman she was; average in everything even If her eyes glowed with an amber hue and while her posture was average for a human; her footsteps were needlessly loud to the point she scared those who walked near her- some even tried to go against her. Especially, those of an orc lineage but let's say It didn't go well for them. After a long day- seeking a weapon and something to consume. She ended up in the tavern and right away; the priestess could feel the aura of unease that embraced Jezebeth af Malakath. She paced inside- footsteps as ever heavy, rendering the sound of the wood groaning before her deep voice escaped from her lips:

"Thee may rarely findeth people of enough intelligence that can talketh in common here."

She mused, her only hand resting atop the table before those glowing eyes the ones of the priestess. A small tired sigh escaped from her lips. She claimed a seat but she didn't completely sit onto it with her entire weight for It already struggled to hold her up and she didn't want to catch more attention. Alas, her disguise was far away from perfection.

Azlat Ushus
 
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“Drink? Wine? …Be̶er? Azlat continued, speaking the three words in vain hope that at least one would be understood by the barkeep.

“Drek ul otazar ak tem nanzemig??” Was her rough and completely indecipherable reply. Azlat didn’t understand what that meant either, but she understood clearly that there could be no conversation between them. The barkeep was aware of this too, and promptly departed to tend to the other, more understandable patrons.

Well this was a disappointment. When she’d arrived, she figured the denizens here would be able to understand her clearly. It was a fair assumption. Even the northern pagans still spoke Thagretan, even after centuries of estrangement. They referred to it as ‘Common’, but that language was evidently entirely absent in this city. To her fortune however, there was another in the establishment who spoke it and understood her clearly.

"Thee may rarely findeth people of enough intelligence that can talketh in common here."

Spoke the voice, and Azlat turned to see she who had said it. The woman looked as out of place as Azlat. She too had worn a hood, though hers was red. And her eyes too carried a yellow hue, although hers were glowing while Azlat’s had thin serpentine pupils bisecting each iris. Jezebeth by all accounts appeared human, aside from that detail. The same could easily be said of Azlat, too. Completely ignorant to the stranger’s demonic nature, she rather incorrectly assumed the Jezebeth might be Thagretan, briefly. Her glowing eyes were not draconic, and the sense of strange unease Azlat experienced could not be ignored.

“So I see. They do in the north acr͜͏oss the oce̷an, you know. But not beyond the mountains.” Azlat remarked, finding some odd irony in the predicament.

“Well I'm fo͟rtunate that you do. I am Azlat, from Thagretis.” She added, introducing her to the one woman there who could even understand it.

Jezebeth Af Malakath
 
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