[center][h1][color=a0410d]Fe[/color][color=a36209]at[/color][color=f26522]he[/color][color=f7941d]rs[/color] and [color=gray]Ash[/color][/h1] [hr] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/90/b4/1e/90b41eba7e2c375ccd47e92d6145b24a.jpg[/img][/center] [color=a0410d][center][h2] Apoche Proper[/h2][/center][/color] [hr] [center]Apoche,free trade city on the southern most tip of the Fudime continent below the Withering Mount. A place like no other bustling with the fire of life, more so evident by the Shoal Festival. The celebration of the first day of summer marked by tides being at their absolute lowest expanding the cities borders much to sailors, and sea faring merchants chagrin. The beaches were seemingly alive as the market seemed to grow. Music rolling across the sands the invocations of bards and minstrels taking hold of the people as they sang an danced. The Festival being a nearly two week long event was not only a marker for summer but a memorial to the founding of the free city of Apoche. It is during the last three days of the festival that the five great houses, Thornsey, Cargan, Elstai, Daindro, and Gillton come together to present themselves to the city. Ceremonies abound from weddings to opening of new trade deals. Each families power and wealth given back to the people in a way seemingly fitting. But it is on the last day that the Elstai Matriarch steps forward and delivers the passing. Sun lowering over the ocean it's red and purple hues playing across the Deepstone walls of the inner city refracting their magically imbued light over the entire lower city and beaches. The warm oranges giving way to a teal giving the illusion of being beneath the surface of the sea. Just as the sun melted below the horizon The Elstai flagship came into view of the port and beaches of Apoche. Heading straight for the shoal water the large three hundred foot vessel lifted from the water. The music dying down a small woman stepped to the bow her hands raised she spoke. Her voice seemingly booming from every street and alley the magic for her to be heard by all evident. This was Vatren Elstai matriarch and long lived unofficial head of Apoche. [color=f26522][b][indent][indent]"We are gathered here in the great city of Apoche not as one people. We are not gathered here not as a nation. No! We are much greater than such small minded ideals."[/indent][/indent][/b][/color] There was a pause before she spoke again letting the words sink in. [color=f26522][b][indent][indent]"We are gathered here as free men!"[/indent][/indent][/b][/color] Her voice boomed and the city erupted into roars and cheers. She allowed the din to die before she spoke again. [color=f26522][b][indent][indent]"I welcome you all to join me this night as we celebrate this last day of Shoal! Drink, dance, eat, be merry. Let us be heard to Ost the other side of Withering Mount all the way to Efros in the deep north of the Vast! We celebrate not only our founding, we celebrate or strength, our freedom! Let us be heard by both Gods and men we are here. We are Apoche!"[/indent][/indent][/b][/color] The cacophony that rose from the city seemed to never end. The voices of the people nearly drowning out her magically enhanced voice. She raised her hands one last time seeming to dance and scribe in the air as she spoke. The magic of the Deepstone pulsing with each word she spoke. [color=f26522][b] [indent][indent]"I thank each and everyone of you. The Elstai thank you and hope this small token of our gratitude is received in kind."[/indent][/indent][/b][/color] As she spoke the last words the music seemed to rise upon the same magic she'd been using. The sky filling with an extravagant spectacle of light and fireworks. The last night of Shoal was officially underway.[/center] [hr] Dhusa, took a long drag on her pipe she'd heard of Vatren Elstai many times while back on the other side of the Withering Mount. Rumor was her and her line were fiend touched, the women of the Elstai having a strong affinity for magic and an even stronger affinity for Whisper. Dhusa chuckled to herself blowing a large plume of smoke. It didn't matter she needed to find a place to stay for the night. Her day would start anew on the morrow. She began to walk deeper into the heart of the city trying to find a quieter less lively celebration. Occasionally looking towards the sky for her friend Shiv, who flew quietly above in wide spirals. Dhusa, rounded the corner and saw a tattered sign hanging above an old rickety looking door the read, The Stormy Bow. The music and the sound of the people seemed to be muffled and somewhat distant. The street although it had the few celebrating fools and singing drunks traffic was much lighter. She entered the Tavern walking straight to the barkeep. [b][indent][indent][color=gray]"Do you have a room for the night?"[/color][/indent][/indent][/b] The Barkeep looked up and paused the surprise evident on his face for a split second. [b][indent][indent]"Aye, there be rooms here but are you not going to enjoy the last day of Shoal?"[/indent][/indent] [/b] Dhusa, shook her head she knew exactly what gave him pause her Fetchling heritage marked her skin a deep dark grey. Her eyes pupil less and a haunting white a stark contrast against her skin and tribal tattoos. Her face was emotionless as she spoke. [b][indent][indent][color=gray]"The last day of Shoal is but a day. I have my own celebrations I will have in the privacy of a cold tankard of ale and the warmth of a bed tonight."[/color][/indent][/indent][/b] She blew another thick plume of smoke placing a five silver pieces on the counter. She turned to take in the people of the tavern. It wasn't exactly crowded but it wasn't empty either, clearly a staple of this part of the city The Stormy Bow was at one time ornate and grand. The tapestries on the wall although aged were made of a fine whale hide the embroidered borders silver silk that seemed to be imported from Kestwa'. The tables had some sort of enchantment on them or seemingly they did as there was no evidence of repairs made or wear and tear. The patrons varied from commoners to city guards and merchants. No sailors or riff raff from down near the docks, she did mark however the one Captain sitting slumped against the wall in the far left corner near the hearth. Turning back to the barkeep she pulled a pouch from her side and began to pack her pipe. He slid her a large tankard of ale. [indent][indent][color=gray][b]"Your finest I hope."[/b][/color][/indent][/indent] She said face still unemotional. The barkeep stammered. [b][indent][indent]"Y..y...ye only gave me five silver!"[/indent][/indent][/b] She shrugged taking a swig it would get the job done, nothing to write home about for sure but that wasn't why she asked for ale. As she continued to pack her pipe she seemed to get lost in the process the herbs she'd laid out on the bar giving off a very distinct pungent smell. She could see her hands shaking ever so slightly and the prickling behind her eyes began. She took a long drink from her tankard nearly finishing it, she pushed it back towards the barkeep this time with three gold. [b][indent][indent][color=gray]"Keep it coming."[/color][/indent][/indent][/b]