Roaming the Streets (Pre-game)

The city overlooks the sea, built right on the cliffside walls, densely concentrated along meandering hillside paths where a river empties into the Inner Sea. Once, Parthacia was a frontier outpost built in haphazard spurts of effort, and it shows in the meandering streets that often double back on each other, or lead to dead ends. Some roads are narrow and cobbled, winding around whitewashed buildings with red stucco roofs, occasionally converging on plazas with fountains or statues of historical figures now forgotten. Other roads are main thoroughfares that head across the bridges over the river.

Misha wears a dark blue robe with a black shirt and pants underneath, along with black sandals. His black hair is long and tied back in a ponytail with a matching ribbon. Since he wears a black blindfold, his eyes are not seen unless he takes it off. Should he do so, however, it reveals that his eyes have no pupils or irises. Instead, they are completely gray, as if clouds cover them.

The streets Misha walks on are the closest thing to a home that he has. Each section of pavement has been memorized by him, with every building being familiar. Being in this well-known city is one of the few comforting factors that remains in Misha's life. What was not were all of the people walking by. They were strangers to Misha, and his first instinct with strangers was to slip away before someone saw him. Normally he preferred staying in the back allies for less confrontations.

It was impossible for him to avoid talking to such strangers now. Without any idea of where Cale had gone, Misha's only hope was to ask if anyone had seen him. Even those odds were slim. It was unlikely anyone would remember one of the many people living on the streets. But he had to try. The alternative-never seeing Cale again-was too much to bear.

Trying to calm himself for what is to come, Misha reaches into one of his robe pockets. His fingers lay on a small copper object that is concealed inside. Though he does not take it out, he traces the outline with familiarity, knowing every trait of the star charm there. Cale had given it to him shortly after they became friends. He had never gone anywhere without it since. Now that it was his only physical link to Cale, the object meant more to him than it ever had.

Misha's determination is bolstered by the charm. He takes a deep breath and begins to scan the people walking by. For each person that passes within thirty feet of him, he can visualize him or her in his mind as clearly as if his eyes worked. He watches closely in hopes that someone will stand out as looking friendly enough to approach.

New to the city of Parthacia, Wellin steps lightly down the street closer to one line of buildings than the center. Moving through groups of people upon their own business the human betrays his familiarity with city movement if not familiarity with this city in particular. As often as his pale brown eyes are looking at what lies before him, they look up at the architecture as well. One side then another, down this alleyway or that. Either the young man is looking for someone, or he is a tourist. The pleasant expression and exploratory nature of his gaze might suggest tourist to one looking a bit closer.

Of course those eyes do not spend so much time away from what lies before him to miss another curiosity on the street there. A man blindfolded with dark cloth, yet not crouched at the side of the lane begging for coin. Raw curiosity draws Wellin in like moth to flame and the young man nears the 'blind' fellow. He expects to walk close by the man and move on after his closer look, maybe strike up conversation on the flip side if he sees something even more interesting but... well only that closer 'casual' inspection will do and thus Wellin moves in closer.

Wow! There was just so much water!
Atesin stood a top the outer walls of the city, looking out into the harbor. She had grown up in the sands of Kelesh, where there was little water, and the only sea was a sea of dunes.
Oh, traveling on that water was still uncomfortable, unnatural, even! But it was still beautiful to look at!

Leaning against the wall on the outer battlements of the city, the young Keleshite smiled as the sun shimmered off the water, sending sprays of light dancing off of the city walls, rocks, tall ships - everything.

Following the spray of light, Atesin's gaze falls back into the city itself, and the smile on her face wrinkles her nose with how wide it is. Offering a bit of a chuckle to herself, oblivious to any odd looks in her direction, Atesin pushes away from the wall and wanders her way down into the city proper - slipping her way from the stalls in the shopping district, past a ruckus bar that has a patron crashing through the window. All of this Atesin does not mind, doesn't even seem to take notice, instead she just wanders deeper into the city itself until she is surrounded with the lifeblood of the city - people.

The young man approaching him surprises Misha. He had thought he would have to go to someone rather than have someone come to him. Relieved at the thought of his choice being made for him, Misha waits for the man to get closer. Once he is near, Misha says to him, his head turned straight toward him, "Sir? May I ask you something?"

Well there went the plan to walk past the blindfolded man and then decide if he was curious enough to engage him in conversation. Odd how the reactions of others can make one's own plans or expectations invalid. Stopping up short Wellin tilts his head toward the blindfolded individual with open surprise at being addressed at all. I? W-well yes I suppose you may at tha-" A realization strikes the man of light-brown hair, which suddenly causes him to glance somewhat behind himself and down toward the cobblestones beneath their feet. "I feel I must beg your pardon and ask one first however, I was not stomping my way as I walked nearer to you? If so I do apologize, I've tried to abandon the habit for some time." Wellin is quiet certain of it however, the other man's face turned directly toward him before he spoke.

The reaction is confusing to Misha, though he tries to respond politely. "N-no. You were coming over here, and I was glad because I'm in need of help. Do you have a moment to spare?" Misha is certain the man had been approaching him, but he is starting to feel uneasy from the words he says.

Still with head tilted as he looks upon the blindfolded man, Wellin's mouth is formed into a tiny 'o' for a moment longer. "Oh, ahh well I guess I was just surprised that you even noticed me." Even as the young man finishes that admission he is standing straight once more with a more pleasant than stunned expression dominating his features now. "Help you say? Depends on just what I guess. Mind, if you are looking for a guide I'd be a poor one. I've not been in this city for quite the full passage of one day yet. Outside that or perhaps even within it, I can at least try." Another second passes before the man with light brown hair gives a mild gasp and tsks, "Truly my travels have not done my manners any good! I must pray your forgiveness a second time for my rudeness. I am Wellin." Not a highly descriptive nor even complete introduction, but it is a start and offered with a slight bow though he is certain the other man cannot see it.

There the two young men stand then on the side of the street, one clothed in dark shades of blue or black and blindfolded. The other in greens and gold trim and lace common to the wealthy or at least those who want to appear that way.

"I'm Misha. It's nice to meet you, Mister Wellin." Misha inclines his head in a small bow of his own. He considers Wellin's words before saying, "You do not know the city? I could take you around if you need help navigating. I have grown up on these streets, so I know them well." Realizing he is getting off topic of what he wants, Misha goes back to what he was saying. "I usually am with a friend. He vanished a few days ago, and I am very concerned about where he might be. I know he wouldn't leave this long unless something came up. If I give a description, would you tell me if you've seen him?"

A lean, and somewhat tall human. He has black hair, with long sideburns and a goatee. He is very tan, and is wearing the ornate

Parade armor

armor of the city. The people of the city seem to recognize him. He also has at his belt a longsword contained within a scabbard.

Majid was reluctant to leave his mount at the stables, however the city streets he would be patrolling today are not fit for a mount, as they are from the old city, and it would ultimately be a headache to bring his horse through the winding corridors and dead ends which he knew well. Since the King had grew ill, his job has gotten considerably more burdensome, and some degree of fatigue shows within his eyes. The populace of the city has grown unresting and the number of incidences that require his attention has grown during his daily patrol of the city. Nonetheless he walked the streets with his head held high.

He decided to walk to the walls, perhaps the view and smell of the ocean will be rejuvenating he thought. As he reaches the the wall, he leans against their teeth, deeply exhaling once he has done so. The smell of the ocean fills his nostrils as he takes his next breath, and he is overcome with relaxation. He peers into the vast expanse of the ocean, and for a moment all thoughts and worries leave him. As he turns back toward the city, he smiles at its splendor and remains sitting there for some time.