THE SEARCH BEGINS
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Nexian
Dharen’Rhylo was a strange and hostile place. Although he had learned much from the missionaries, Connor was not fully prepared. He had no experience with society. But he knew to trust no one. He did not venture into the wild as a wide eyed innocent. He remembered his brethren were shot; his mother was taken advantage of; and his brother taken away. As far as he was considered Dharen’Rhylo was a nation full of monsters. He had to be on his guard.
Connor spent months in the wilderness. He traveled south and ventured along the west bank of the Samson Lakes, followed the Great Central River south, and finally settled in the wood outside of a village so small it seldom appears on most maps. It was still within Dharen’Rhylo’s boundaries. Connor did not know where the border was, but he knew it was long way off.
He spent days plotting his next move. He had to prepare before he was ready to expose himself. Like the missionaries, society was not likely welcome a man so thick with the stench of animal. First, he needed clothes. There were a number of travelers along the nearby trade road. They came and went quite frequently. Connor often watched them. He noticed that there those transporting goods among them.
With a single gold piece in hand, Connor made a trade. The gold was enough to pay for number of fine clothes. When asked how he came across the piece, he simply stated that he was robbed and it was the last of his currency. The generous purveyor sympathized and provided a number of necessities such as; clothes, shoes, a canteen of water, and a bag of aromatic fragrance to apply after a weekly bath.
Afterward Connor was given a number of Dharen’Rhylo quarter coins as change. The universal currency was very strong, which made even a single one of Connor’s hard-pressed-pieces worth a great deal. Once supplied, Connor packed up and moved further south. He bathed himself, dressed as best he could, and finally decided to begin his search.
But Connor quickly found that people were not very welcoming. The clothes he wore were not traditional. He stood out, and the people of Dharen’Rhylo were not too keen on foreigners. He was accused of being a refugee. What Connor did not realize was the growing tension between the country of Ahri and Dharen’Rhylo. There were three countries which shared borders with those two giants. People from those countries kept bleeding into their neighbors
No matter of teaching from the missionaries could have prepared Connor from what he had to face. The people of Dharen’Rhylo were all about tradition and lineage. The common citizen took pride in their family name, even if they were famers or laborers. History is what gave a person social status. That mindset was popularized as far back as 743AB, during the Pilgrimage of Despair.
Connor had no surname. In the eyes of Dharen’Rhylo society he had no identity. Immediately he was labeled a stranger and an outcast. But Connor’s advantage was that he could simply leave. He had a heavy bag of coins and a mission to complete. He could reinvent himself over and over again. He was a stranger in a strange land, and he had a lot to learn.
Instead of the wilderness, Connor began to travel along the roadways. He observed and studied how people spoke. As he traveled from place to place he thought of how to introduce himself. In order to blend in he needed a surname, and some history to accompany it. No matter what name he chose it would be strange, and no one would know it.
Connor’s settled on Nexian. He was inspired by the wolf spirit that had given him so much in his life; Nixia. She had showed him mercy in the earliest days and allowed him to escape his captors. From that day forward he would call himself Connor Nexian, in honor of her. His history would be very simple, but a truthful lie in all respects.
Connor claimed that he ventured from the north. He was man who had grown accustomed to puritan ways. The missionaries who taught him were purist, so that wasn’t a lie. He also knew that people throughout Dharen’Rhylo seldom went north. The climate there was often cold and wet. People would rather settle in more temperate climates.
He drew further inspiration from one of the missionaries that taught him. Connor replicated what he knew about the man’s family, and cleverly transformed it into his own history. He simply changed the names. He realized that no one would bother to challenge his word if he was sincere. But even sincerity couldn’t take him everywhere. What he couldn’t prove with words, he proved with coins.
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Whispers of the North
Throughout his travels he began to discover more about the Northern Tribelands. He knew very little about his homeland, but the people Dharen’Rhylo were well versed. Unlike the elders who spoke of the beauty of the north, the people of Dharen’Rhylo spoke only of chaos and savages. The picture painted was very different than the one Connor had grown up with.
But the ignorant views of the people did not taint his opinion. Connor was wise enough to see that the people did not know the truth. On the rare occasion he would encounter someone who knew the tragedies of the north, but they were too few and far between. The average person felt the Tribelands was a place that bred only evil, wickedness, and debauchery.
After Connor discovered that it was the church that promoted the lies, he felt it would be wise to remain silent. But Connor learned all he could. He studied the maps that were available to the public, and learned of the cities that commonly shipped supplies to the west. It became apparent that Dharen’Rhylo had established a small colony.
Unlike Selnia, the new colony was controlled by the church and supported by the military. No foreign country was allowed in the north. According to Dharen’Rhylo, it was theirs alone to control. The new colony was called Dharenmor and it was founded some years back. According to public documents, the colony was established in 1009AB.
For Connor it was an eventful year. As 1025AB transitioned into 1026AB, Connor realized a need for permanent residence. As much as he despised Dharen’Rhylo, deep down he knew that staying was fundamental to his mission. It became clear to him that no one would know of a young man from the Wolf Tribe. Dharen’Rhylo had covered that up quite well. And now he needed to learn of this Dharenmor colony.
He needed information. If the missionaries were good for anything they were good at making Connor aware of books. They often spoke highly of the Great Central Library which resided in the heart of Gabriel’s Hold. Within thick walls of brick and mortar were mounds of books — tomes which spanned hundreds of years and history, public information, and religious.
In order to succeed, Connor had no alternative. He had to find home in largest if not the wealthiest city of all of Dharen’Rhylo: Gabriel's Hold.
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Blood, Brick, and Brass
Connor knew very little about Gabriel’s Hold. What he did know was that it was the heart of the Church of Dharen, that it was a popular trading hub, and that it was home to major political affairs within Dharen’Rhylo. For hundreds of years it served as the capital of the great and powerful country. But Connor wasn’t too concerned.
He had with him his purse of coins and his wits. Not to mention the military were stationed farther in the south, so he shouldn’t be threatened. His journey so far had been rather kind to him. Though the people were often the worst part of the experience, he found that he had whatever he needed when he needed it.
One of the first things he learned was that having a horse meant that you were a target for bandits. Only people who were well established had horses. Either they were required for labor and work on the family farm or they were a means of luxury and transportation. The closer one came to Dharen’Rhylo, the more it was the latter than the prior.
Connor spotted a number of robed officials either mounted on horseback or were comfortably nestled in gilded carriages. Going about his journey on foot had proven to be best. Seldom was he bothered by the average passerby. Now and then he took what rides were offered, but even they became few and far between the closer he came to the city.
The first thing he saw over the horizon was the miraculous tower. New Dharen’s Light was a shining beacon from a distance. When he asked about it, the people he met told him a number of things. Some said it was a pillar of faith and an inspiration to them, while others said it was prefect monument to the church’s hubris.
Any concern that Connor may have had about getting into the city were quickly dismissed when he laid eyes upon the massive wall that surrounded the city itself. Great gates remained open and a mass of people ventured both in and out of its gaping maw. In all of Connor’s travels, he had never seen anything so immense. He heard and read about the city, but seeing it in person was an experience to behold.
Not an inch of green could be seen within the city’s walls. Everything was carved of brick and stone. The roads, the walls, and the buildings themselves were all a cold and remorseless gray. Some varied in shade and tone, but all of it carved from labored hands.
The streets were surprisingly narrow and tight. From what Connor had heard it was a result of the city growing unnaturally over time. There was no plan when it was erected. Buildings were just built atop other buildings and overlapped where necessary. The architecture was flat and bland, which clashed with elaborately designed churches. And there were a great many churches.
In fact there were so many churches that they dictated where one road ended and another began. When there was a corner, there was a church. The streets were named after the largest church which resided there. And upon the top of every hour the city sang. Bells chimed and hummed — a choir of metal that tolled the hymn of the hour.
It was both a beautiful and immensely frightening experience. All of it was created by the hand of man. And it gave Connor a feeling of just the sort of people that surrounded him. He was born of nature and the respect of it. This city served as a barrier that protected the people from nature. Connor had no doubt. They feared nature and wanted to hide from it.
The Tower of New Dharen’s Light cast an imposing shadow over the city. As the sun loomed behind it, it practically turned day into night for a section of the city at a time. Like that of an oversized sundial. After all it sat at the heart of the city and proved to be best way to navigate the complex corridors. When lost, just look up and refer to the tower’s many sculptures.
As impressive and frightening as the city was, Connor quickly found that he had trouble looking for a place to reside. None of the buildings within the walls of the city looked habitable, but he knew they were packed to the brim with civilians. Their laundry dangled from open gaps in the brick, smoke bellowed up from chimney stacks, and the cries of young babes echoed through the streets once the bells of the city were silenced.
He needed information. It was clear he knew absolutely nothing about the city. He walked up and down the length of the streets for hours until he found his bearing. There was a sort of pattern to the chaos. Some thoroughfares were popular for shops and markets; where goods and services were found in abundance. There was not just one designated road either. They appeared to alternate, branching out from the heart of the city as if to ensure no one would have to travel too far for food or supply.
Assuming each market road was the center of its community, the roads which flank it were those which harbored the community itself. Living quarters were stacked haphazardly along the length of those streets. The roads beyond that were designated for services to the people. Military barracks, stables, pubs, government offices, etc. Each service roadways was positioned as cardinal routes of the city which was accompanied by a primary gate.
All of it surrounded the Tower of New Dharen’s Light. But the Cathedral in the heart of the city wasn’t the only structure which resided there. A number of buildings were occupied by the government. Others were the residences of officials of higher power and status. They did not find shelter on the domicile roads, for those were only populated by the lower and middle classes of the city.
Connor was a quick learner. He asked the right questions and remembered what the missionaries forced him to learn. He put that knowledge to work. He figured his best bet was to venture down one of the service roads and find an inn or pub. There he could scout the area and pick a few more brains.
He tried a few pubs but none of them delivered, but it was the fourth one he wandered into that yielded some merit. Connor had learned that the quiet ones, the men or women who were often alone, that proved to be the best sources of information time and again. He scanned the interior and happened upon a man playing a game.
Curiosity beckoned him. He approached the man and took one of the many aged oak chairs as his seat. The man was very engaged in his game. Of course acknowledged Connor, but chose to say nothing as he patiently contemplated his next move, which gave Connor time to measure him up. Unlike many of the others that Connor has approached, this man looked to be of far higher status.
Yet he didn’t strike Connor as a man or the church or even the military for that manner. His manner of attire didn’t suggest politician either. Perhaps the best way that Connor could describe him was that he looked ‘learned’; as though his robes were a sign of achievement rather than necessity.
While he was well off in years, his hair had not turned entirely gray. There was a bit of an orange hue to it, which was different from the filthy blonde or oil drenched browns that Connor had become accustomed to. Bright blue eyes looked carefully at board and the pieces upon it.
Connor’s eyes kept moving from the board, the pieces, and to the décor the man wore. He couldn’t ignore the dull brass fixture that resided on the man’s left breast. It was a curious symbol that was similar to the icon that military wore, but it had some key differences. For starters the wings wrapped around the sword rather than behind it.
There was also a subtle detail, one that Connor had to spy after a very intimate study. It was a scroll, which resided behind the blade. It looked like there were words engraved on it too, but they were too small to read.
Eventually the man reached out and made his move. A low tone uttered through his lips as though he seemed satisfied with his choice. Then, and only then, did he finally let his eyes address Connor directly. He immediately pinned that Connor wasn’t from around here. But Connor brushed that aside as being easy to identify. Connor had yet to master how to dress in Dharen’Rhylo society, so he stick out like a sour thumb.
But the man pushed further and stated in greater detail; that Connor wasn’t from Dharen’Rhylo at all. Immediately Connor felt alarm. But the man assured him, extended a hand, and addressed himself as Theodore Ranfield. Another detail that the man took note of was that Connor had no immediate reaction to the name, which only solidified his conclusions.
The man smiled and gestured for Connor to join him in the game. As Theodore professed, “there is no purpose in conversation if nothing is to be gained by it. The same applies to the game. There is something that can always be gained by playing Fe’Draghil”.