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[colour=darkgray][indent]The young man, shrouded in darkness, waited in agony as the rusty ferry neared the coming port. 

How long had he been hunched over? The duration of the travel had him dry-heaving and balancing the effort of keeping himself stable and trying his goddamn best not to fall over the edge. The waves were gentle, but his stomach growled in lack of agreement. Time bled much differently where he was from; a province allocated much too far from the rest of the world. As a result, he had been so far removed from the sea that he nearly forgot its existence. Sal had been brought up to stay calm in the face of danger, but this was a new type of battle, and the ocean sickness was not making it any easier on the poor boy. His organs seemed to bunch and swell, continuously thundering and hurling themselves against the walls of his body with little to no mercy on the boy. See, that was the danger, he mused miserably, of having spent his years on land. The trickiest route involved change. If anything, he knew that when it did come, it would seem too hurried. Too discourteous.


And a great change was indeed coming, he could feel it humming from the skies and pulsating within the flames of the tall torches that seemingly welcomed his arrival. They had a bond, he and the fire. For twenty-three years he felt the conflagration's burn as it coursed fiercely through his veins, giving him enough power to carry out the deed he was born to accomplish, but mostly using it to keep himself warm. His Goddess' gift granted him the ability to do more than just that, though. 

[url=http://i.imgur.com/t648Oyf.jpg]Salvyn[/url] hopped off the ferry and tipped the oarsman, waving a shaky goodbye as he struggled to compose himself from the most wavy adventure. The air slightly shifted, and suddenly he had just barely been swallowed up by the hordes of people that undulated in harmony to the ebb and flow of the sea beside them. The young man held his breath as the rank sewage stench molested his nostrils, in an attempt to subdue the hostile odour. Voices flooded in from every direction, accompanied by the roughest of shoves and messy footwork that compared to the elegance of a bull ploughing headfirst into a brick wall. The crowds of people truly seemed to be the life of the atmosphere, paying no heed to the brunet that wished they were anything but.

There were too many people here - too many problems that reminded him of why his parents had to flee the city in reckless abandon. This was his true place of birth, but the Vatican State had chased his ancestors out for years if ever they were found to step foot in the premise. The reason? they were afraid. Scared of things they could not understand. Terrified of [i]him[/i]. 

The mage did his best to conceal his true nature under the hood of his cloak, and kept his [url=http://www.darkheartarmoury.com/drogo9.jpg]gauntlets[/url] on at all times, if in any case he did manage to allow some of his magic to spill out. They weren't exactly fireproof, but they were sturdy and made from a material that was forged to handle the heat. They were designed with miniature holes at the tips, to regulate the intensity of his powers when he decided to use them. If anything, they were safe. He looked fairly innocuous, compared to the brutes and ragged streetwalkers that meant nothing good for the city, yet still somehow possessed the right to stay. Stifling a cough, he advanced carefully towards the location written to him in the letter he received.

[i]Da pacem, Domine, in diebus nostris
Quia non est alius
Qui pugnet pro nobis
Nisi tu Deus noster[/i]

The church's haunting hymns echoed around the streets that stood in his way, causing the people to turn quiet and halt all types of conversation. This made for easier navigation, much to his surprise. A tall manor that boasted elegance came into view from behind a rustic bakery. The aromas that brewed inside were deeply tempting, and as a result he walked out of the confectionary with an assortment of baked goods, in exchange for a couple magic tricks and hushed bargains.

Salvyn once again made his way towards the manor, when he had just spotted a familiar face.

[color=8493ca]"AKIO? S'THAT YOU? Fancy seeing you here. Oh boy, it has really been a stretch of time!"[/color] [i]Well, fuck.[/i]  Salvyn exclaimed internally in utter disbelief. Sure they had been involved in the same company, but never would he have thought that fate would have them together in the same city after what had happened last time they went hunting.

[color=8493ca]"I suppose we are rather late - let's head on up before we get ourselves into a mess with the boss."[/color] and with that, he barely left Akio with anything to say. He was rather embarrassed, to say the least. The brunet gunned it to the large door, where two men stood waiting. One was clad in semi-heavy, iron armour, whereas the other stood much taller than the both of them combined, or so it seemed. They looked like the type of duo you wouldn't want to mess with, so it was obvious they were called in as well.

Salvyn peeled his hood back and glanced at the two. 

[color=7ea7d8]"Greetings. My name is Salvyn. Would you lads care for a bite?"[/color] the man held out the bag in front of him, exposing its goods.


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[colour=gray][b][u]MENTIONED:[/u][/b][/colour] [@LordofTheNight] [@Inertia] [@potatochipgolem]