The breeze blows unhindered across the open sea, blowing Cyrlis’ hair back and away from her face, as she stares out towards the Buskan Isles. As the isles grow on the horizon, so do the waves as the wind picks up intensity, the sky behind the isles darken with the approach of a storm. As she stands on the deck of the ship, activity around her increases, as sailors eager on reaching land before the storm is upon them, secure the deck and the sails. She pays them little heed, lost in her thoughts, even as the first mate, Kethan Rilynn' Shal, approaches her, to inform her they would soon be docking, she gives no indication of having heard him. He stands before her, uncertain if he should wait for a response. When she realizes he’s still standing before her, she turns her head and gives a slight nod of acknowledgement, so subtle that Kethan is uncertain whether she was acknowledging him or dismissing him. Caring little for the man standing before her, she returns to her thoughts, gazing out at the isles as the ship. Kethan returns to his duties, leaving Cyrlis standing on the deck, as splatters of rain drops start to fall.

This would be her first trip to the isles, since she left the Arkenea, otherwise known as The Invincible City, nearly two years ago now. She had thus far been content simply to explore the vast continent, but lately something in the back of her mind seemed to be luring her to the isles, so after weeks of trying to ignore the idea, she booked passage on a merchant ship bound for the Buskan Isles.

As the ship grew closer, she could start to make out the other boats in the harbour, as well as a bustling of activity as the merchants hurried to protect their wares from the coming storm. It was not until they had finally docked that the sky was completely enveloped in black ominous lightning streaked clouds. The light drizzle quickly turned into a bone soaking down pour. Cyrlis, travelling light as always, took her one bag and quickly made her way off the docks and deeper into Larskan.

The once busy streets were quickly becoming vacant, as people hurried to find shelter from the intensifying storm. She soon found what she was looking for; a sign loomed in the distance, the Broken Barrel Inn. A seemingly respectable establishment, at least to her it appeared to be marginally more fit to accommodate guests then some of the other inns nearer the docks, which looked more like something a common farm animal would sleep in, most assuredly not someone befitting her upbringing.

She steps inside the front door, at the same time she reaches into her pocket where she wraps her fingers tightly around a stone, warming to her touch. As she holds the rune tighter the water seeps off her, leaving her completely dry. She makes her way to the front desk to request lodgings for the night.

"Excuse me Sir, are there any rooms available?" she asks the man standing behind the desk, his beady eyes look up, and hover for a moment on her pendant hanging around her neck, he quickly looks back at his book attempting to hide a smirk growing beneath his greying and unruly beard. He licks his pudgy thumb and flips a page in the book sitting before him, which Cyrlis can only guess is the book that this man keeps all the records of his rooms for rent in. He smirks again, this time bothering to respond to her inquiry.

"And what is such a respectable looking noblewoman like yourself doing travelling alone in the Buskan Isles? “He asks her as he tries to contain a smirk.

Cyris stands a little straighter, clearly annoyed by this innkeeper’s audacious question; she clears her throat, "I do not see how my travelling arrangements are any of your business. I require lodging; you provide lodging. You either have accommodations for me or you do not, but if you insist on speaking to me in such an impertinent manner I will seek lodging elsewhere." Picks up her bag and turns as if to move towards the door, hesitating slightly.

"Well now hold on, I never said your money wasn't good here, we just don't see a lot of travellers such as yourself. I'm assuming you'll be wanting our best accommodations then?" the innkeeper asks greedily, watching her as she pulls out her money purse.

"Very well, I shall remain here then," she pulls out her money purse, "And how much will it be?" She asks.

"Well now, that'll all be depending on how long you plan on gracing us with your presence 'm lady", the innkeeper asks in an almost mocking tone.

"Well, I should say I haven't really planned on how long I'll be here, but I would be willing to pay a week in advance, if I end up staying longer we will discuss further payments at the end of the week. How much will that come to?" Cyrlis asks trying to remain composed, not allowing this commoner to ruffle her.

"If it's a week you want, then that'll be <insert appropriate amount of money here>, but if you'll be wanting extra amenities, that'll of course cost you more...." The innkeeper chuckles to himself, eager to make as much money off Cyrlis as he can con out of her.

"Very well," Cyrlis hands the innkeeper a <insert amount of coin here>, the innkeeper’s eyes grow wide. "This should cover the week and any "amenities" I will require. If you will please show me to my room now, and have someone bring me up a hot meal, I would prefer to eat alone in my room then down here with...with...well just send it up to my room. She grabs her bag, and follows the innkeeper up to her room. They walk up a set of old wooden steps, as they reach the first landing she notices a strange looking set of eyes appear in one of the windows, but by the time she blinks to clear her focus, the eyes are gone. Thinking she must be seeing things from the cold weather, she continues to follow the innkeeper up yet another flight of stairs. They read the top most floors; the innkeeper turns to a single door on the right side of the hall, puts his key in the lock and opens the door. As Cyrlis walks by the innkeeper, he passes her the key. "I'll send up your food straight away, hope you don't mind being a bit apart from the rest, but this is our best room despite its location." The innkeeper turns with a smirk on his face, eager to get on with his work. Cyrlis surveys her surroundings with slight distaste, this was the best room they had, and clearly, the people here had no idea what type of room best suited someone of her upbringing. She hesitates before laying her bag down on the four-poster bed, a bed that clearly had not been slept in in sometime, as a fine layer of dust clung to the bedding.

Closing her eyes, for a moment, she concentrates on the dust in the room, as she opens her eyes again the dust has dispersed. She lays her bag on the now clean bed, and looks around at the rest of the room. She walks over to an old dresser, on top of it a shabby mirror, clearly in need of cleaning. Her image skewed by all the dust and smudges and cracks in the mirror, feeling too tired to be bothered to rectify it tonight, she unpacks her belongings into the dresser, then, holding another stone in her pocket, as it glows warm in her hands, the drawers seal themselves against any intruder who might wish to steal her belongings.

As she goes to look out the lone window in the room, a knock on the door brings her out of her thoughts, she composes herself, and opens the door just enough to see who was knocking. On the other side is a woman, dressed rather shabbily, carrying a tray of food. "I was told to bring food to this room, for you I presume." The woman holds out the tray, smirking at the Cyrlis, clearly unimpressed by people of stature.

"Thank you," Cyrlis opens the door further, "You may lay it down next to my bed on the side table. I will leave it outside my door when I am done, no need for you to interrupt me again this evening. I am rather tired from my long journey; I wish to not be woken with first meal tomorrow until well after dawn." The woman gives Cyrlis a clear look of disdain but obliges her none the less. After laying Cyrlis' food on the night-stand, she gives a curtsy.

"Will that be all miss, may I be excused now," spoken with clear sarcasm. Cyrlis ignores the tone in the woman's voice.

"Yes that will be all." She motions for the woman to leave her room, and then closes the door behind her a little harder than necessary. She then eats what appears to be some sort of meat stew and bread, although appetising was not a way in which she would have described the meal. She then lays the tray outside the room, and proceeds to undress, climbs into the four-poster bed, draws the curtains shut, and falls into a deep sleep. Oblivious to the malicious intents the innkeeper was currently formulating for her in the downstairs storeroom.

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