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Cortos - Ylara
Talus kept his eyes forward as he road through the small mountain gate of Ylara, his gaze fixed on the open square that lay just beyond the open archway. He took careful note not to glance towards the guards, all of whom were surprisingly vigilant.
A couple hundred years ago Ylara had been considered a mighty fortress. Most of it was carved into a great limestone cliff on the western bank of the eastern split of the Baal-Asha River, with the rest scattered out in loose homes and farms just beyond the cliff itself. During the wars with Vel Anir the city had been one of those that had eventually fallen to a decade long siege.
At the conclusion of the wars Vel Anir had left, but Ylara was still thick with Anirian Culture.
Talus could see it as he rode into the city proper.
Many of the buildings were constructed in the same style as his own home. Sweeping cut lines, defensive structures built into the corners, and winding pathways that were difficult for strangers to traverse. Talus could see the mark of his country, though it was hardly a dominant feature. Ylara was still very much Cortosi, if nothing else told him that it was the banners of the Radiant Church.
He tried to keep the frown from his face as he watched what he presumed to be a priest of some sort wander past him, his tabard gleaming in the sun. Talus shook his head slightly, turning his horse towards a large building that was marked with a sign. The 'Wayfarers Inn', it was called.
Slipping from his horse Talus flipped a coin to the stable boy. "Make sure she's well cared for."
The boy nodded eagerly, grabbing Talus' mount by the reigns as the young Dreadlord Apprentice tugged at the odd leathers he was wearing. They were uncomfortable, though better than wearing what would mark him out as Anirian. Black Leather and a green tunic made him appear just as most sell-swords in Cortos, and that was good enough for him.
Running a hand through his hair Talus looked about one more time before heading into the Inn.
Talus kept his eyes forward as he road through the small mountain gate of Ylara, his gaze fixed on the open square that lay just beyond the open archway. He took careful note not to glance towards the guards, all of whom were surprisingly vigilant.
A couple hundred years ago Ylara had been considered a mighty fortress. Most of it was carved into a great limestone cliff on the western bank of the eastern split of the Baal-Asha River, with the rest scattered out in loose homes and farms just beyond the cliff itself. During the wars with Vel Anir the city had been one of those that had eventually fallen to a decade long siege.
At the conclusion of the wars Vel Anir had left, but Ylara was still thick with Anirian Culture.
Talus could see it as he rode into the city proper.
Many of the buildings were constructed in the same style as his own home. Sweeping cut lines, defensive structures built into the corners, and winding pathways that were difficult for strangers to traverse. Talus could see the mark of his country, though it was hardly a dominant feature. Ylara was still very much Cortosi, if nothing else told him that it was the banners of the Radiant Church.
He tried to keep the frown from his face as he watched what he presumed to be a priest of some sort wander past him, his tabard gleaming in the sun. Talus shook his head slightly, turning his horse towards a large building that was marked with a sign. The 'Wayfarers Inn', it was called.
Slipping from his horse Talus flipped a coin to the stable boy. "Make sure she's well cared for."
The boy nodded eagerly, grabbing Talus' mount by the reigns as the young Dreadlord Apprentice tugged at the odd leathers he was wearing. They were uncomfortable, though better than wearing what would mark him out as Anirian. Black Leather and a green tunic made him appear just as most sell-swords in Cortos, and that was good enough for him.
Running a hand through his hair Talus looked about one more time before heading into the Inn.