Post by Rhyldrin Ken'rae on Jul 16, 2014 11:22:47 GMT -5
(Don't have Valcoda's Alter Info Finished Yet)
To say the young man’s expectations of his first steps as a Vindicator of Tyril were inaccurate would be a gross understatement. Those were the thoughts currently jostling around in Valcoda’s head as his body bounced around roughly in the back of the old cart he was currently hitching a ride with. He had graduated the top of his class, though he hadn’t seen any of his classmates in several years. Once it was determined he would be a vessel for Tyril’s will and need for war he was isolated and given special training. He found himself lonely at first but that was until he was given his practice… dummies. He had been presented with all types; young, old, weak, strong, fast, slow. Any variation of mortal ability was placed before him and thus far every one of them had fallen.
Unbeknownst to him the church was in talks with various organizations throughout Arith to determine where he would be unleashed. He wouldn’t have minded either way, at least not until he realized how he would be getting there. If he had known he would have been kicked out of the citadel, literally, and only given the clothes on his back, some rations and enough gold to himself there, and if he was carefully, possibly setup he may have been a little less excited. Perhaps that was why the priests and his trainers had those stupid smirks on their faces, they knew what he was in for.
A sudden lurch from one of the wheels striking a branch brought his thoughts back to the present. That was, of course, after the pain from the side of his head hitting the wagon subsided a bit. Glaring at the back of the driver he would take a moment to look around him. It had taken a few months to get from the citadel in Doxenia to the hillside currently overlooking Navahla, the capital of Sarkotos. It would have gone faster if he hadn’t decided to be a frugal with his money as possible. After all, he was only told where to go and who to ask for. Any additional information, such as where he was to live, how he was earn money, if he would need to earn money, what he would be doing to earn that money if he needed it or even the name of where he was going had been left out and knowing his masters they had probably done so in purpose.
Reaching behind him he would grab his sack of his belongings and hop down from the cart with a grunt. Taking a second to stretch his legs he would pop a few muscles in his shoulders and neck before walking out on foot. He would overtake the cart in a few minutes and as he passed he would flip one and then two coins up to the driver to dipped his head in silent thanks. Grunting himself Valcoda would shoulder his pack before trying to make into the city before sunset. He was darker than most in the city and the stares he received were expected. He was even darker than most in Doxenia as well. His skin and eyes had begun to change the closer he came to Tyril’s will and influence.
The sun had finally set when he rounded the corner to enter a side street. Looking down at the scroll with the directions he would reread them once more before making his way to a particular door. “No need to knock,” was automatically reflected upon in a mental manner so he simply reached out and after finding the door unlocked opened it to enter. Stepping across the threshold and letting the door close behind him he was suddenly hit by the smell of his dirty body and clothes. Coughing just a bit as the sudden surrounding of the aroma hit his nostrils full force he began to make his way down the hall as quickly as possible. It was then the most beautiful woman he had seen to date looked up slowly from behind a desk he hadn’t even noticed before.
Cursing inward, not Tyril of course, at his luck he would stop a few extra feet from the desk as needed. Looking around to hopefully find an ugly woman or guy to ask for assistance he would soon frown as none were found. Looking back to the female his frown would deepen as he could have sworn he could see her eyes start to water. “I’m Valcoda from Arch Citadel of Tyril in Doxenia. I was told to come here.” If her eyes had begun to water she had quickly rid the moisture, she was stronger than that of course.
Her words were soft and yet held an air of finality to them and her tones of voice were as alluring as her beauty. “Yes, Valcoda… We have been expecting you. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room and the… baths.” She offered a small smile with her reference to bathing and stepped out from behind the desk with a grace that almost made his knees weaken a bit. Following her every movement he would let her lead him like a lost puppy to his room and then the baths. Nodding his head in thanks he would begin in the acts of cleaning up.
To say the young man’s expectations of his first steps as a Vindicator of Tyril were inaccurate would be a gross understatement. Those were the thoughts currently jostling around in Valcoda’s head as his body bounced around roughly in the back of the old cart he was currently hitching a ride with. He had graduated the top of his class, though he hadn’t seen any of his classmates in several years. Once it was determined he would be a vessel for Tyril’s will and need for war he was isolated and given special training. He found himself lonely at first but that was until he was given his practice… dummies. He had been presented with all types; young, old, weak, strong, fast, slow. Any variation of mortal ability was placed before him and thus far every one of them had fallen.
Unbeknownst to him the church was in talks with various organizations throughout Arith to determine where he would be unleashed. He wouldn’t have minded either way, at least not until he realized how he would be getting there. If he had known he would have been kicked out of the citadel, literally, and only given the clothes on his back, some rations and enough gold to himself there, and if he was carefully, possibly setup he may have been a little less excited. Perhaps that was why the priests and his trainers had those stupid smirks on their faces, they knew what he was in for.
A sudden lurch from one of the wheels striking a branch brought his thoughts back to the present. That was, of course, after the pain from the side of his head hitting the wagon subsided a bit. Glaring at the back of the driver he would take a moment to look around him. It had taken a few months to get from the citadel in Doxenia to the hillside currently overlooking Navahla, the capital of Sarkotos. It would have gone faster if he hadn’t decided to be a frugal with his money as possible. After all, he was only told where to go and who to ask for. Any additional information, such as where he was to live, how he was earn money, if he would need to earn money, what he would be doing to earn that money if he needed it or even the name of where he was going had been left out and knowing his masters they had probably done so in purpose.
Reaching behind him he would grab his sack of his belongings and hop down from the cart with a grunt. Taking a second to stretch his legs he would pop a few muscles in his shoulders and neck before walking out on foot. He would overtake the cart in a few minutes and as he passed he would flip one and then two coins up to the driver to dipped his head in silent thanks. Grunting himself Valcoda would shoulder his pack before trying to make into the city before sunset. He was darker than most in the city and the stares he received were expected. He was even darker than most in Doxenia as well. His skin and eyes had begun to change the closer he came to Tyril’s will and influence.
The sun had finally set when he rounded the corner to enter a side street. Looking down at the scroll with the directions he would reread them once more before making his way to a particular door. “No need to knock,” was automatically reflected upon in a mental manner so he simply reached out and after finding the door unlocked opened it to enter. Stepping across the threshold and letting the door close behind him he was suddenly hit by the smell of his dirty body and clothes. Coughing just a bit as the sudden surrounding of the aroma hit his nostrils full force he began to make his way down the hall as quickly as possible. It was then the most beautiful woman he had seen to date looked up slowly from behind a desk he hadn’t even noticed before.
Cursing inward, not Tyril of course, at his luck he would stop a few extra feet from the desk as needed. Looking around to hopefully find an ugly woman or guy to ask for assistance he would soon frown as none were found. Looking back to the female his frown would deepen as he could have sworn he could see her eyes start to water. “I’m Valcoda from Arch Citadel of Tyril in Doxenia. I was told to come here.” If her eyes had begun to water she had quickly rid the moisture, she was stronger than that of course.
Her words were soft and yet held an air of finality to them and her tones of voice were as alluring as her beauty. “Yes, Valcoda… We have been expecting you. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room and the… baths.” She offered a small smile with her reference to bathing and stepped out from behind the desk with a grace that almost made his knees weaken a bit. Following her every movement he would let her lead him like a lost puppy to his room and then the baths. Nodding his head in thanks he would begin in the acts of cleaning up.