Open Chronicles An Allirian Reception

[Erelith]

Dawn was come, and the gloom of the early hours was thus thrust out alongside the charcoal of hearths long burnt and the tradefolk that sought an edge over his neighbor. Dogs barked and morning sparrows freed their songs upon the groggy bustle of a city beginning its day. A crow took flight down a narrow passage, abandoning the bountiful perch in search of treasures to add to the nest. Between stone walls and hanging gardens the crow flew, avoiding swinging hammers and the hasty shaking of garments that women looked to hang in the early light, until it happened upon a treasure it knew not. There was neither bauble nor trinket that glimmered as this did. Six eyes, all burning hot, yet they did not twist and blink as the crows did, no, they were pressed in by the hands of a metalworker, and yet how this thing of gold could see, the crow knew not, daring only to encroach in passing flight.

Erelith looked unto the sky and heard feathers rustle in retreat, a crude sound of hasty reconsideration. Morning dew still clutched to the weeds that had pressed their way defiantly through the cobblestone the diplomat tread upon, weeds that were trampled just as defiantly by the traffic of a city bursting with an abundance of denizens. To say Erelith looked out of place was an understatement, for his height drew the eye of most, let alone the broad golden plates that encapsulated him. A cocoon of gilded metal hid away the form beneath, and where armor could not conceivably reach there was a substitution of both robing and formfitting cotton - head to toe and finger to breast. Curiosity seemed to have control of the diplomat as he strode through the wings of the city until the Allir Keep loomed above, smothering the gleam of his attire until he appeared naught but a shadow to those patrolling above, surely a ceremonial task for none would dare attack such a fortified position.

The beauty of the Keep was not lost upon the diplomat, for if his mask could truly shift a smile may have carved itself into its harshness. Hands wed at the small of his back, the envoy stood alone, and whether he contemplated or plotted was impossible to discern, he was little more than a golden figure at the foundations of greatness. A muffled exhale whistled through the nostrils of his faceplate. Time passed and morning turned to noon and the observing Erelith rightly abandoned his spot, venturing instead towards the outskirts of the city, where slums met swamp and need clobbered sense. It wasn't long before the diplomat found himself cornered, a man had lain in wait for an unwitting wanderer, and two more blocked the eastern exit of the muddy alleyway. Silence was heavy, pressing against the walls until a gruff voice spat out towards Erelith.

"Coin or your throat. You pick rich man."

 

[Lectrix]

His night of heroics and vigilance was just beginning. When the sun had ceased giving its blessing light to the clouds, Lectrix knew it was time to investigate his new target. Perched upon the roof of the apartment he lived in, he assessed his mission for the night.

A man name Felix Collingways. A rich merchant extorting the money of people along the port for "protection." Well... he thought to himself, a smirk appearing on his face. He wouldn't have the proper protection to deal with him. He reached for his belt and pulled out a small diagram, which detailed the entrance ways and rooms of the estate of the merchant.

He began analyzing when a small gleam caught his eye. He found his gaze to follow the shine that reflected from the ground below him. He turned his head to follow his eyes to find a man, covered head to toe in what Lectrix thought was gold plated armor. He put away his diagram, curious onto who had just stumbled into his neighborhood. He put his hood on and ran to his right, where he climbed onto a higher vantage point in order to get better sight on this stranger.

He was just... waling. As if he didn't have a purpose. What the hell was he doing in such a neighborhood dressed like that. Had he no idea where he was?

Well, clearly not, as Lectrix figured when he saw the man turn into an alley, where he was met by the wrong end of a sword, held by another man.

A look of despair fell on Lectrix, and he instinctively ran across the perch he was on and made his way to the roof top of the alleyway. While on his way, his focus was on the confrontation in the alleyway, which had two more guests. Lectrix reached the right rooftop, and flicked his wrist, triggering the crossbow in his bracer, as well as preparing two throwing knives for the new guests.

The man was unmoved by the group of crooks, which caught Lectrix by surprise, so he perched himself on the rooftop and waited for a signal to help the stranger.