Cedric all but skipped towards the town, his heels thudding against the packed earth of the road, beaten into shape by thousands of feet over the years. He looked for all the world like a bandit. It wasn’t really his fault, he reasoned. He’d literally slept in a hedge more nights than not over the last few weeks, and it had been a long road. His tabard were so stained and dirty, with more than a few new tears in it. The brown looked less the rich auburn it had started as, and more like the same colour as the dust on the road. Which, he supposed, stood to reason. His battered leather boots had a coating of mud that had dried, had fresh mud stuck to them, and when that new layer of mud had dried, even more had stuck to that, forming an encrusting that he knew would take nothing short of warm soapy water and a hard scrub to get clean. His beard, normally well brushed with a bit of oil combed through, was matted, tangled and knotted with even a few little bits of grass and leaves here and there. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a pony tail, but had started to come loose in the last stretch of the road, with whisps of it starting to come loose as his eagerness to arrive had made his feet soar and seen him set a cracking pace for the last day. He’d had the foresight to change his shirt the day before to the clean one he’d kept in his pack, so thankfully at least his sleeves didn’t look like they’d been through one of the hells.
It was a lucky call; he’d snagged his arm on a branch two days ago leaving a long rip in one side. The only thing that didn’t look beaten was his shining bronze belt buckle, worn proudly around his waist to secure his tabard in place.
But for all that, the dwarf couldn’t keep his grin from shining through as he walked towards the gate in the high walls of the port city. They were a dull, off white stone, and easily forty feet high, and beyond them, he could hear the sounds of a busy place. Almscliffe was in the odd in-between place of a large town the was fast becoming a small city, and it was hard not to feel the potential pulsing out from those walls. The walls themselves were weather beaten but clearly maintained regularly, which spoke well of the cities’ maintenance crews. He felt a spring in his step as he drew closer. It the first long journey he’d had since finishing his studies at the clergy and after so long couped up indoors studying, every moment was revelry. He winced as he stepped in a pothole and felt the jolt run up his ankle. Well, not every moment I suppose he thought.
Suddenly with a very different jolt, he realized he was almost at the head of the line at the gates, and the guards had registered him. He also became aware that he looked like a madman vagabond, was grinning like somebody with a few screws loose, and the guards were giving him searching looks. At least his weapons weren’t visible. Them thinking he was an armed vagabond might get him barred from the city; them thinking he was a harmless eccentric might get him patronizing looks, but at least he’d be doing it inside the walls. He nervously tugged at his clothes, quickly straightening them and trying to brush off any loose dirt as he joined the line to enter.
He wiped the wide grin off his face and replaced it with a regular smile; one he was hoping was friendly and affable. He reached down and polished his belt buckle quickly with a sleeve. A nervous habit, sure, but definitely a handy one. The circle of beaten but polished bronze was shiny, and clearly worn. It was the only thing he’d kept from his past life in the mines before begining his studies as a clergy, and it was a workman’s belt with a wide leather brown. Scuffed and used, but cleaned often. It was given to him when he became an adult by his father, brought brand new as a thing that would last him for years, and it was the sort of thing he’d be proud to have passed down in a family one day.
First thing’s first, Cedric. Convince the guards you aren’t a psychopath who just slept three nights in a hedge he internally scolded himself, as he refocused and walked to the head of the line. “Hello there, and good day to you all!” His voice crackling slightly on the first word. He realized he hadn’t actually used it in the last few days.
“Welcome to Almscliffe, traveller. What’s your business in this city?” the guard captain boomed out. The other three guards at the gate wore leather and chainmail, and carried spears in their hands with nasty looking cudgels on the belts. Their armour was chipped and worn, but clean, and jingled slightly on the light breeze as they shifted position, standing with their weight forwards and knees slightly bent. They had a casual but worn and well practiced air about them, and Cedric was suddenly glad that he wasn’t a criminal as their stern gazes seemed to pierce him from multiple angles. The lead guardsman wore a fine steel plate over his chest, and had a sword sheathed on his side, with his right hand hand resting on the pommel, his left hand hung by his side. He was a tall human man, and had a nose that looked like it had been broken and healed dozens of times. A metal half helmet with a captain’s insignia sat proudly on his head, which along with his armour were the only things that stopped the hulking man from looking like a tavern brawler. It didn’t escape Cedric’s notice that the man’s gaze was firm, his steely blue eyes looking him up and down, seeming fairly unimpressed as his lips drew together into a line, and his expression hardened. It also didn’t escape Cedric’s notice that his plate was clean and polished, but had more than a few dents in it. So not some stuck up noble son, but somebody who’s probably gotten to his rank by working for it. Cedric gulped and looked him right back into his eyes, then relaxed. This was a big moment for him, but for them, it was just another day at the gates.
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“My name is Cedric Mulch. I recently completed my studies at the clergy in Vershire. I’ve come seeking work as an adventurer. I do apologize for my appearance; it’s been a few years since I traveled, and sleeping rough was a little more…erm…dirty than I remembered. I’m hoping to register with the guild branch here and get to work right away!” As he spoke, he reached very slowly with his left hand up to his neck, and pulled on the iron chain around it, and the little object at the end came free from where it sat under his shirt, and he left it proudly displayed on the outside, hanging down against his chest. A little silver hammer, kept clean from the grime of the road and any potential thieves pressed against his skin for the last few days. It felt good to have it back on display again.
He saw the lead guard relax slightly and that grim press of his lips curved upwards into a slight smile. He saw the other guards’ posture relax slightly too. “It’s always good to see a cleric, especially in dangerous times. You’re a little far from home though, aren’t you?” the guard questioned, his voice still holding a note of interrogation in it.
“Yes captain, I am. After studying for a few years in the same place, seeing somewhere new felt like the right idea”
“I see, and you’ve just recently finished your studies?” the captain continued. Cedric could feel the unasked question. Most clerics began their studies in their mid to late teens, and graduated around their early twenties. A life spent in quiet contemplation, surrounded by books, typically left them looking a little more refined and even soft in some cases. Cedric was closer to thirty, and looked like he’d had a hard life. He was tall for a dwarf, and although he’d lost the leanness he’d had over the last few years carrying books instead of stone, he wasn’t what you’d call slight. And he was guessing the guard wanted to make sure he wasn’t some drifter who’d just mugged a cleric in one of the massive, city spanning forests on the road to Almscliffe. “We all start somewhere, friend! I had career change, which led to my studies, and now I’m here to make up for lost time. I heard there was a surge of monster activity in the nearby forests, and I thought it sounded like a good place to jump in and cut my teeth.” His voice was clear and rang forwards; a benefit of standing to give presentations in lecture halls practically daily during the last few years. And a mark of his education he was hoping the guard picked up on.
“Well, you aren’t wrong at that” came the reply, sounding significantly less frosty. “Come on through, you’ll find the guild has it’s headquarters in the main square, which is easy to find. In the market square, you’ll find a few nice inns with bathing amenities…” the conversation moved to a quick description of how to find said inns, with a subtle but firm implication that Cedric should head straight there and not dirty up the guardsman’s streets too much. Others were arriving at the gates, so Cedric hurried to get in and out of the way.
First step done he thought. The suggestion to bathe before presenting himself to the guild wasn’t a bad one. He’d worked hard for this, ever since he’d seen adventurers in action. Almscliffe had a docks, and now he was inside the walls he could smell a slight salty tang to the air, but getting there on the inland roads require skimming the edges of massive forests that covered massive swathes of this continent. Forests that by most reports were teeming with monsters, quests, bandits and adventures. A perfect place for him to start a life as an adventurer and make a name for himself. He perked up at the thought, a spring back in his step, and started heading towards the market square before he felt a jolt in his ankle, and realized he’d stepped on a loose rock.
He swore under his breath, then stiffened and straighted up as he realized the guards probably heard him, then chuckled to himself. I really have been studying for too long. I’ve forgotten to look where I’m walking. He strolled in the direction of the market square, this time being careful. He’d changed over the last few years, but the world clearly hadn’t. He didn’t trip again.