((Continued from Troubles))

The journey had been a long one, and Oriana got used to riding the horse, which she had decided to name Musty... "Because that's how she smells." Truth be told, Oriana had grown a little fond of the creature, but she was still worried that it was going to throw her off. And unlike many journeyers, Oriana had also not grown sick of her companion. Shem was still kind and interesting, despite having spent many days together. It was surreal to her that she had actually left Maloren, and she felt like one of these days, she was just going to wake up from whatever good dream she had been having. She was beginning to wonder, however, if they were ever going to make it to Olencia... Nevertheless, she couldn't believe her eyes when they finally did first look upon the capital city. "It's beautiful," she whispered, more to herself than anything. She could see the peaks of the castle peering into the clouds, and the other structures in the city were just as magnificent. It was nothing like Maloren, that was for sure. Sadly, enough, Oriana realized that she did somewhat miss Maloren. It was her home, after all. And she missed her father, and a few of her younger cousins. Her mind did not dwell on those thoughts for long, however, as they drew closer to the city. "Is that really it?" she asked Shem. He gave a nod and smiled at her.

As the roads led further toward the city, Oriana found that more and more people could be seen travelling on them. For the majority of their journey, she and Shem had been the only ones around, except a few straggling people, but most of them had lived in the area they were crossing. Here, there was all sorts of bustle and hustle, trying to get inside the capital's gates. Maloren had gates too, but they weren't as heavily guarded as Olencia's, and they certainly weren't in such high demand. Already, Oriana could hear dozens of different accents that she had never heard before in Maloren, where everyone just spoke in the drawl of the sailors, except for perhaps the merchants and Shem. She found herself looking around at the caravans ready to enter the city. There were merchants and peddlers, as well as several other types of people whose occupations she could not name. She watched in awe as all of them passed by the guards and into the city. How could a place hold all of those people? She was sure there would be more of them once they got inside. Maloren was a busy city, but it was not full of such magnificent people. She could see the carriages of seemingly important people too, and she felt her stomach flip with excitement as she thought about the fact that some of those lords and ladies she could be related to. Foolish girl, her mind chided her, but she was already on to looking at something else.

She stood in her stirrups to get a better look as they waited in line to enter the city. She tried to listen to what people were saying. Someone was complaining that his purse had been stolen already, but Oriana did not worry. She learned the tricks of keeping her purse safe in Maloren, having never been the victim of that crime before - Neith, her grandmother, had made sure that the children were careful with their possessions and especially their money. "The world is not a play to present your treasures for others to take," she had always told them. Oriana still lived by those words. Her purse (or rather Lucan's stolen one) was tucked under her skirt, safely hidden from eyes and clever hands. There were merchants speaking of the latest price changes and bargaining techniques, as well as what shipment of what had been thrown off. Someone was talking about a drought in the north, and she could hear a child wildly talk of some story he had heard about a Slayer and the Dragonlands while his mother absent-mindedly tried to tow him along.

Finally, it came time for Oriana and Shem to enter the city, not that she had been completely impatient in waiting. Oriana had never entered a city like this. She had always come in through the ports, and even then, she did not stray far from the docks. It was a new experience for her, and excitement made her heart rush. The guard took a moment to survey both her and Shem, not so much as giving a smile, though he paused upon looking at her. She gave him a Malorener's stare back, and he went on about his business while she and Shem entered the city. It was breathtaking.

Eventually, they had to dismount from their horses because the crowds were too thick at that time of day to make it through on horseback without losing each other. Afraid of getting lost in the city, she grabbed her friend's hand for the pure sake of not losing him in the crowd, letting him do more of the leading. He was better at decided what they were going to do anyway, and finding nice inns to stay at. Oriana was not always a good judge - she blamed it on the low Maloren standards, but perhaps it was because she had not had enough experience doing such. "There," said Shem over his shoulder to her. "We'll stay at the Prancing Pony." She nodded numbly, still overwhelmed by the city. Finally reaching the inn, which had a sign with a pony on it, as well as lettering that probably said "The Prancing Pony" (she couldn't be sure), she handed the reins to the stablehand, thinking that Shem was right behind her. She gave the boy a coin to pay for his services, and went inside, asking for two rooms and hot baths for both of them. Shem was not behind her, so she figured that perhaps he was speaking with the stablehand outside. She, however, needed a hot bath. They would meet up again for dinner.

Oriana, though exhausted from traveling, couldn't help but take her bath quickly to go explore the common room of the Prancing Pony. She did not dare venture outside of the inn, for fear of getting lost and unable to find the way back to the inn, but she could see the rest of the inn at least. She made her way down the stairs and into the common room... when she bumped into someone... hard.

((OOC: Ah, the classic bumping into someone...))

((Leik umg that's long XD))

See, he THOUGHT Penril had gotten the message. He THOUGHT the boy had gotten it DRILLED THROUGH HIS SKULL, PASTED ON WITH THAT CONCOCTION KNOWN AS RUBBER AND IMPRINTED IN EVERLASTING SILVER. He THOUGHT, see, and that was what made him ANGRY. Hadrian Evaristus was NOT to be trifled with when he was ANGRY, and GUESS WHAT, HE WAS, SO GO AND DO WHAT HE SAYS OR ELSE YOU DIE.

GODS THE BOY WAS GONE! Gone! Like…. LIKE THE WIND, like how water would be if it stayed out for long. Yeah, that kind of gone. There for a brief moment, waiting, just WAITING for you to pile on your hopes on the damn BUGGERS, and then POOF! No, this was NOT CEREAL, THIS WAS SERIOUS!

BY THE GODS, did he have to barge into every HOME and search most PROFUSELY!? YES HE WOULD, SO HE DID JUST THAT. Mobilized the army, hired MERCENARIES, hell, he would even COME ALONG WITH THE SEARCH! If you were the suspicious sort, this was just screaming ‘OHGODWAR!’

Well, NOT war. Just…. Much love. Yes.

The reason the streets were so crowded was because some of his less-bright recruits had the MOST SUPERNOVA-LEVEL BRIGHT IDEA TO TRY AND GET A WHOLE SQUADRON THROUGH Narrow Way. A WHOLE SQUADRON, GODS! HOW IDIOTIC COULD YOU GET!?

As soon as he was gone REGULATING TRAFFIC (a High Commander, REGULATING TRAFFIC!) Hadrian proceeded in breaking numerous privacy laws, all for the sake of the Kingdom. Yes, life was bliss that is until a guy suddenly barges into your home, looks around, demands to see some Penril man and upon being denied, twitches most profusely and leaves.

THIS WAS FOR THE GOOD OF THE KINGDOM AND YOU CAN FILE ALL COMPLAINTS TO THE ARMY COMMISIONER AND NOT THE HIGH COMMANDER, YES?

Good. Glad we got that settled.

Hadrian got off the saddle in front of the Prancing Pony as a small group of soldiers went past; armor a clanking and all that soldier sound. The High Commander knew Penril owned this inn, and he had right mind to interrogate EVERY SINGLE POOR SOD in this establishment. Yes. For the good of the kingdom.

Barging in, he cast an eye about the main room. Most people were staring at his SWORD rather than the fact he was High Commander. Weapons do that to you, really. He asked one of the staff the question, and twitched as the woman said no. Hm. Well, he had to go ELSEWHERE… in the Prancing Pony, that is.

Upon entering the common room however, he was so busy in his task that he BUMPED someone, of all things. Meeeh. Well, he had to help, right? Boy Scout’s Honor.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, looking down at the woman and offering a hand.

((OOC: Pretty sure Ori doesn't even know what the Kingsguard is... XD))

... and toppled to the floor. Graceful. She looked up at the person that she had run into. He looked to be a middle-aged man, definitely a good deal taller that her, though lean. She had never seen him before (obviously), but looking at him, he seemed to be someone important, judging by his uniform. She gulped, unsure of how to handle the situation, still feeling a bit out of place in this new city. In Maloren, the both of them would probably have been on about their ways, without a second glance (unless the person was Shem, who would have helped her up)... but Oriana didn't know how it worked here. Were all northerners weird like Shem? She just didn't know.

"Are you hurt?" asked the man, offering her his hand to pull her up. She took it, awkwardly, and shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she replied, standing on her feet and brushing off her skirts. Uggh. She needed new clothes. These were somewhat fresh, but traveling did not do good things for apparel. The man before her, however, seemed to be in good attire, a crisp uniform, though she could not place what it was for. She might have asked if he was all right... except that it was apparent that he was... Gods, she should have just waited in her room, taken a nap or a longer bath. Already she was getting herself into trouble, and she had hardly even set foot in the city yet. The out of place feeling was all too noticeable for Oriana.

"No, I'm fine," she replied, standing on her feet and brushing off her skirts. Hadrian looked at her state of dress. Traveler. Hm. Well, she could’ve heard of Penril. When he got his hands on that wayward boy, there would be hell to pay. HELL I TELL YOU. HELL.

“I apologize.” He said quickly. “For bumping into you. It was not my intent, and would never be. I would like to ask a question. Mayhap you’ve seen someone?” He asked her with a commanding air. YES. ADMIT IT, YOU SAW HIM DIDN’T YOU? “… younger than me, with a tattoo on the side of his face? His name is Penril Tanith.” YES, YOU HAVE SEEN HIM, TELL ME NOW. Oh wait, he was just paranoid. D’oh. “He is wanted by the King.” Well, nice excuse. Wanted, yeah, but not by the King. FOR THE GOOD OF THE KINGDOM DAMMIT, FOR THE GOOD OF THE KINGDOM.

A soldier barged into the common room, and upon spotting Hadrian; he wasn’t THAT hard to spot, since who ELSE would be walking around in THAT armor, made a beeline towards him and saluted.

“Lord Evaristus, we found out nothing from the eastern quarter of the city.” The soldier said. “Sir, requesting further orders, sir.”

Hadrian frowned and the soldier quivered like a blade of grass in the wind. NOTHING THERE!? NOTHING THERE!? I OUGHT TO HAVE YOUR HEAD! PENRIL HAS TO BE FOUND, YOU HEAR ME!? FOUND! OR ELSE I’LL FEED YOU TO THE LLAMAS AND THROW THE RESULTING BYPRODUCT INTO THE OCEAN!

“Search again.” Hadrian spoke. “Again and again until he is found; I will not take no for an answer.” The soldier saluted, and Hadrian turned to her again.

“Have you seen him?”

The man apologized rather quickly. Gods, were all northerners like that? Full of manners and the like? "I apologize, for bumping into you. It was not my intent, and would never be." Hmm, crazily polite... "I would like to ask a question. Mayhap you’ve seen someone? Younger than me, with a tattoo on the side of his face? His name is Penril Tanith.” Oriana tried to recall seeing such a person, but she had seen so many people that day already that it was hard to remember all of those faces. A tattoo would have been memorable, however. She remembered Lucan's, and wondered how he was. She had not thought of him in awhile, aside from when she had to pay for things. He had not come to see her after the storm... so she could not be sure what happened to him. Well then, may the gods look upon him kindly.

“He is wanted by the King.” Oriana looked at the man. He had connections to the King... She was a foolish child for thinking such things. Even if her story were even remotely plausible, there was no way that this man would believe her if she claimed to be a distant relative of the Tarans. So instead, she decided that she would just answer the man's questions, wondering who this Penril Tanith was anyway. She was about to give her answer to him when someone else came barging into their space. Another man came up to... whoever Oriana had bumped into... and saluted him. Or at least, that's what she thought it was. She had never seen it done before, so she wasn't entirely sure. It seemed right.

“Lord Evaristus, we found out nothing from the eastern quarter of the city," said the new man. Oriana frowned. Were they seraching the city for this, this Penril Tanith? “Sir, requesting further orders, sir.” Lord, sir? She wondered who he was, the name Evaristus vaguely familiar. She tried to place it in her mind, but could not remember anything remotely helpful. Her brain was only loaded with navigational systems and how to clear tables correctly. For heaven's sake, she couldn't even read the sign to the inn... “Search again," instructed Lord Evaristus. “Again and again until he is found; I will not take no for an answer.” Perhaps Penril was a wanted criminal?

“Have you seen him?” asked the lord, turning back to her. She shook her head briskly. She tried to think about what Shem might do in the presence of a Lord... in the stories there was always some code of behavior, but of course, Oriana didn't know what it was. "No... sir..." She didn't know how to properly address him. Gods. She should have just waited for Shem. "I've only just arrived here," she explained in exasperation with herself.

She shook her head briskly. "No... sir... I've only just arrived here," she explained in exasperation with herself. The High Commander stared at her for a few more moments before speaking again. WHERE WAS PENRIL!? WHERE, DAMMIT, WHERE!? HE WAS ON THE EDGE OF SANITY, MY GOD.

He was hanging on a WILL HERE! WHERE WAS PENRIL? THE SLAYER'S KEEP!? GOD, HE'LL GO THAT FAR! YES! HE SHOULD GO NOW!

“You may go.” He said as an aide appeared holding the High Commander's helmet . “If you have need of any assistance, do not hesitate to call upon the King’s Guard. We are the local law enforcement in these parts, and should you run into trouble in the city, and you need our help, use my name."

YES. USE IT. GIVE HIM SOME STRESS RELIEF. IT'S BEEN A LONG, LONGTIME SINCE HE WAS ALLOWED TO TOUCH THE SLEDGEHAMMER.

"Hadrian Evaristus would suffice; the Lord is not needed, nor is ‘sir’.” He had a small smile on his lips. “You are not a soldier; you do not need to call me ‘sir’. I find it amusing however, that you did.”

He took his helmet from the hands of the nearby aide and placed it on his head, the face most people knew as the High Commander was there for all to see; a grim obsidian helmet that obscured anything that pertained to a human being in that cold shell of black.

“Fortune smile upon you and your travels.” He said, dipping his head. He turned and left the room.

Shem, busy watching, well, just about anything he could see, didn't notice Oriana slip away. She said a few words to him before he left, and he noted that he said a few things back and that he mentioned something about a nearby inn, but apart from that he was too engrossed to pay attention to much else. Engrossed was probably the wrong word, he reflected as he noticed he'd been holding his mouth open. The right term was more likely along the lines of gawking. Provincial, uncouth, peasent like gawking do doubt.

But oh, it was fun gawking. Shem closed his mouth but continued to stare around him, resisting the urge to stick his fingers in his mouth and bounce like a small child. Instead, he grinned hugely, spreading his mouth from ear to ear as he took in all the colors, textures, and lights of a huge city.

Olencia was grander than anything he'd seen by far, and a far stretch prettier than anything he'd seen in Maloren. Come to think of it, after the grit and grime and questionable sludge on the streets of Maloren, Olencia's cobblestones were downright stupifying. And look, where those children over there? Playing in the park? With clean faces and no intentions of picking pockets or spreading mayhem.

How lovely!

He leaned over to Ori to tell her how wonderful the outside world was and stopped short. He straightened up, clapping a hand to his face, barely avoiding panic. Where had she gone? Where was she? Where had she gone?

Zounds! The streets of Olencia were no place for a Maloren girl. She'd...she'd....she'd end up killing somebody, that's what! He'd been a friend and she'd nearly beaten him into the dust for surprising him. What would happen when some poor stranger happened upon her suddenly?

Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Oh Gods.

Wait! The Prancing Pony. He'd definitely said something about the Prancing Pony! And she'd said something back. Staying at the Prancing Pony? Had he given the horses to somebody at the Prancing Pony? Time to look at the Prancing Pony.

"Ori?" He skidded back into the inn. "Ori? Please don't be lost!"

((OOC: Edited, though I don’t know if it fits. Blah. It’s 11:39 PM, so who knows? Sorry about my evil god-moding-ness… I had just needed to RP, so yeah. Let me know if it needs more editing. :) I deleted the other posts we made OOC to make the thread cleaner.))

“If you have need of any assistance, do not hesitate to call upon the King’s Guard. We are the local law enforcement in these parts, and should you run into trouble in the city, and you need our help, use my name." Oriana wasn’t entirely sure what the Kingsguard was (but it sounded important), though she did realize that she was talking to a person of influence. She gulped to herself, deciding that she was quite ignorant in the ways of the world, especially when the man told her that she need not address him as “sir.” Oriana wasn’t so sure… it seemed to her that, whoever he was, he did have some sort of proper title, whether she was a soldier or not. Nevertheless, he had things to do, so he bid her farewell and stalked off, leaving her bewildered once again in the common room of the Prancing Pony. Gods. She certainly wasn’t in Maloren anymore. Men in shiny armor didn’t strut about there, looking for men named Penril Tanith. She wondered if people did that where Shem was from. Where was Shem anyway? He certainly was taking long enough with his bath…

“Ori?” she heard someone call her name – Shem, of course. She doubted that anyone else in the city knew her name. "Ori? Please don't be lost!" She turned around the corner to find Shem looking for her. She smiled and rolled her eyes at him. “Lost?” she questioned him. “Why would I be lost?” Surveying him, she realized that he hadn’t even gone to take his bath yet, still in his travel clothes with a bit of dirt still visible. “Haven’t you gone up to your room yet?” she asked, confused. And then realized that she had left him in the streets. “Oh.” She blushed in spite of herself. The city had been a bit overwhelming for her too. She laughed. “I’m sorry – I thought you followed me,” she explained. “I’ve already gotten us rooms and baths… I’ve already taken mine too.”

((OOC: Erk. Sorry, not very long or detailed.))