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Fyra
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Eleforian Elite Guard
Sir Ichs blinked, his hazel eyes getting a greedy glint. The man stood up. He was under six feet tall, almost as short as Echo, really. There was a single sword in a dirty sheath at his side, and grease stains on his pants, visible as he came around to offer his hand to Whisper. "It's been a long time since I heard of the Mad Lion... so he gave up on that quest of his to find his wife's killer then and got himself settled with a new one." He nodded dismissively at Lorant and the man left, supposedly to return to his post.

"I was only achieving my knighthood in the east when he tore through the area like a whirlwind, but I remember him. His eldest? So he has more children, then? Are they giants as well?" The man wasn't waiting for her answers, his voice holding only the barest hint of curiosity. "I apologize, you've been on a long journey to get here, and surely will need food and rest. We've only the basics here, I'm afraid. Even Initiate Regalt's parents couldn't get the court to fund us much. In a city where Randatis rules, it is hard to find support for our glorious Leosine." He beckoned them to follow. "I'm sure you're quite unimpressed by our humble abode here. We have barely room for a shrine, let alone proper training grounds. It is nothing like the richness that Phenvast has. But we make do. We only number fifteen or so knights, and most of them live along this street in shared quarters. There isn't many that care to join us, there's certainly nobody of note, who's family has been in the Order for generations. Lorant will make a paladin but he is young yet." He was half rambling, as if he was trying to brag, but presenting a pitiful front at the same time.

The man was leading them down the lackluster hallway. He pointed out a door to the Shrine room. It was vaguely painted, but as dull as the rest of the building. inside, the altar was cracking gold paint, with a full suit of armor, a lion skin, and weapons hung around it. It was dusty.

After that he showed them the rooms. They were set up as dorm rooms, with bunks, four to a room. Graciously, he offered Whisper usage of the second, so as to remain appropriate with men and women separate, and pointed to the bathing room across the hall. Every room was dusty, as though there were never truly visitors. "The cook is preparing some dinner now, I'm sure. We should have enough for all of you, but if not, there are plenty of places in the city to eat at. Sir Lorelei, if you would visit me, after your group is settled?" He smiled at her, a slimy air adding to the impression that maybe if the place was pitiful enough they would be able to call upon their Western cousins for monetary help.

----

Echo smiled at the richness that surrounded her, barely listening to Charles. Her voice was semi-distracted as she set her bag, having refused to let it sit with the rest of luggage, in her bedroom. "You forget again, my lord, that I am not so proper minded as you." Her voice was light and teasing. "Sharing a bed with you I might raise a brow at, but a suite is perfectly fine. And there certainly is no reason for you to shuffle your wardrobe. The room I'm allotted is quite fine, thank you." She smiled at him, the ice of the afternoon seeming to melt. "All that I require is a bath, and perhaps the set of clothes I had on yesterday washed... I would hate to simply throw them out when a decent washing will leave them wearable." She ducked her head slightly. "I really am quite capable. I never have had servants, other than general cleaning in the Complex."

It was not long before her bundle of dirty clothing was whisked away, including her leathers, to be washed and then returned, and Echo was soaking in a hot bath. Actually, she didn't soak much at all. It was a brief soak, and then a desperate round of scrubbing herself as she remembered the blood and organs on her skin, in her hair. She was thankful that the tub was drained through pipes, knowing that it would bring a fright to a servant who saw the pink-tinted water. Echo stepped from the tub after dumping a bucket of rinse water over herself so that any gunk that was clinging to her from the bathwater would slide away. She finally started to feel clean as she wrapped a towel around herself, and first thing she slid her bells into place, feeling secure with them on her.

She dried off and then slid into her crimson and black gown, the elegantly simple cut only putting her further into her Court mindset. She could not show them anything. After her dress was on, she padded lightly into the main common room with her brush in hand, and settled in front of the fireplace, on one of the carpets. Staring into the fire, she began to brush her hair, the heat from fire helping it dry, even as she brushed water from its tangled strands. She lost herself in thought over the day.
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Shadows · City Randatria


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