Vhalar 31, 717
Noth hadn’t realized it before, but he genuinely hated the ocean. He had always had a slight fear of the deepest and darkest parts of the water where the largest and fiercest creatures resided, but the remainder of the great seas had been regarded with some level of apathy. They existed, but other than the occasional fishing trip or attempted crossing of a small bout of water, he had never really given much thought to the massive bodies of water. He had never attempted crossing the Orm’del Sea either, and that had proven to be a struggle befitting of his Book of Legends. It was not that the Sea had been overly atrocious to them, though there had been a few temporary scares regarding the lashing of waves against the boat and a particularly rough storm that had frightened the hybrid quite horrendously, as well as a couple of other incidents, but rather it was the feeling of having to wait that truly wounded the Avriel.
Anxiety had wrapped its way through his bones by the third trial, and he found himself staring into oblivion, his mind working rapidly as it attempted to conceive of the many dealings of business which needed to be taken care of once he had arrived. Eventually, he had been conscripted by the captain of the vessel to assist to some extent in the running of the boat, despite the fact that he had paid full price for the luxury of avoiding labor. It seemed that the bearded fellow knew exactly how to draw in free labor, however, because Noth found that he was far more willing to work than simply sit about doing nothing, and in time, he had grown quite used to shuffling around crates and other heavy objects for the sake of the ship’s captain.
Meanwhile, Slip and Ears had accompanied him on his voyage. Slip had been chipper and excited as normal at the prospect of visiting the city and of seeing all of its many sights, and he had acquiesced to her demand that they spend at least a couple of trials just exploring as opposed to making the trip entirely one for business. She wasn’t nearly as strong as any of the crewmen; though she could probably match Ears in an arm-wrestle, scrawny fellow that he was, but she had volunteered quickly to assist. The twilight hybrid had honestly expected her to try to contribute somehow below decks, helping navigate or plot charts, despite knowing that she had no experience with either.
She had instead spent the majority of the trip at the top of the Crow’s Nest, competing with the official fellow meant to keep watch there for the right of sitting within the small and confined place. Whenever she would lose, she would settle for simply sitting upon a sail, wrapping her legs around the thing with a confidence befitting someone who had wings. Noth; even being half-Avriel, couldn’t imagine himself ever sitting in such a precarious location, and tried not to look too much at her for fear he would catch a glimpse of her falling before an inevitable splat.
Ears on the other hand had chosen a far safer past-time, choosing to assist the kitchen staff with their work. It was surprisingly slow-paced below decks, especially since the staff had nearly the entire trial to get the meals ready for their crew, and even then it was often as simple as simply unboxing a couple of crates and mixing some ingredients together. He seemed to enjoy the relative calm, and Noth had even spotted him sporting a smile a couple of times throughout their voyage after one of the cooks had given him compliments on his steady work. Certainly, he wasn’t terribly great at the work, but every now and then he got something right, and that positivity latched onto him like a parasite, remaining for trials afterward.
Finally, on something like the thirtieth trial; he hadn’t been counting for fear he’d go mad with anticipation, they finally came within view of the Rharnian shore. The city was majestic and bright as he had expected, and Slip had quite literally squealed in excitement at the prospect of finally going ashore. The lighthouse had been snuffed out in the brightness of daylight, but it stood ready, a welcoming guide to any ships which would require its services later that night. The docks were wooden, but they weren’t nearly as rickety as some he had seen in the past. Nevertheless, the real attention-getter was the massive mountain before them. The city seemed to spiral out of the rock, as though it had been carved directly from it, a massive act of engraving, and atop the mountain lay the mighty bastion of the cursed Immortal who resided there.
For all of the beauty, however, Rharne was not without its seriousness. The hybrid stepped off of the boat with his companions, hearing the slight struggle of movement to his right as a pair of young soldiers; Noth could not tell what division they belonged to, nor what organization, simply that they wore light armor and had blades, worked to pull a drenched and soggy body from the docks. They untied the bindings which had trapped the form there and promptly settled it into a nearby cart likely requisitioned for the collection of dead prisoners. A curtain was placed over it, and the final thought the hybrid had on the matter was that the body had been so terribly soaked that he could not even tell whether its bloated flesh was male or female.
They had been admitted to the city with relative ease, though the hybrid thought he recognized the slight flicker of contempt in the eyes of the port official. Even with his vile nature, the hybrid knew better than to question the glance, and instead took it in stride.
That first trial was spent resting. The boat by planning would not be leaving from the Rharnian shore for several more trials, and whilst they were within the city, they had been allowed to remain in their bunks on the condition that they either work upon the boat and the docks for the duration, or else find their own food and supplies until they began to trip back. After all, space might have been free, but food was certainly not something that the captain could just spare recklessly.
The next trial was far more productive, with the trio searching and scouting around the assorted marketplaces and sights of Rharne, avoiding the sight of the local law enforcement agencies wherever they had a chance. Obviously they hadn’t committed any crimes yet, but the hybrid certainly didn’t want to give them a chance to discriminate, and he knew that his kind were unlikely to be welcome. Despite his clear avoidance, he took other precautions as well, wearing the standard cloak and hood which he often wore whilst in Etzos to ensure that he would not be recognized. It was a relatively baggy outfit which meant there was plenty of room for him to hide his wing without needing to reveal it to others, and the slight darkness of dusk was enough to cause the twilight-feathered Avriel to effectively meld into his hood.
Asking around in order to locate the nearest criminal organization had been suspiciously difficult, and the hybrid blamed the issue both on his lack of nativity to Rharne and the general caution exhibited by those who performed in such clandestine clans. The hybrid despised skulking around in the alleys, especially given his appearance, and so that particular task had been assigned to Slip who was far more persuasive than he in… loosening lips, as it were. After a couple of busts, however, they had been informed to stop looking into things like that, and instead to ‘relax and take a load off at the Lady Libertine’.
If that wasn’t a hint, then the hybrid wasn’t entirely certain what was, and so, as night fell and the doors to such garish places became more opened, the Prince of Eternal Mercies and his retinue went to visit, opening the door to the establishment and promptly finding their senses assailed with… something different, but altogether familiar.
