Ferrin made his way through the streets of Brightvale, taking in everything that the village had to offer. Admittedly, he hadn't ever actually stepped foot in Brightvale before, because he had always devoted himself to its sister city of Meridell. But he had to admit...Brightvale definitely looked like it was a lot better off. There was definitely a lot of beauty to the town in comparison, and it was immediately obvious at a glance why. It was clear that the money was handled a lot differently here in Brightvale; there was a lot more prosperity going around than there was in his own homeland. Buildings looked nicer, there were brighter colors, and there wasn't a single part of the town that looked run down without actively going hunting for them. Brightvale definitely seemed like a different place than Meridell. Most would probably say that it was a much better kingdom overall, with Hagan being far more generous than the infamously greedy King Skarl. 

But for Ferrin, it only made things seem boring.

That said, Ferrin, was very torn on Brightvale. He was glad that it seemed that more prosperous. It meant that there were fewer poor Neopians like when he was young. But it also meant that they were likely going to be trying harder to hide the parts that were on harder times. And he doubted they didn't exist. They almost always existed. But for now, he supposed that it wasn't something he needed to dwell on. He was here for a reason, and he was going to see to it that he accomplished his mission.

The Scorchio, dressed in his usual casual attire, stopped by a few of the shops on his way into the town, particularly the armory. But he didn't need anything that they had to offer. Magical materials and such were fine, but he was satisfied with his standard sets of weaponry and armor. He carried his sword and shield strapped to his back and adorned a chain shirt beneath his regular clothing. This was definitely a lot easier to travel in than his usual set of knight's armor--more comfortable too, though still not perfect. And it didn't help that he had to lug around his heavy armor with him in his bag on his back, but it was definitely better than wearing the hot suit of metal armor all day long.

Ferrin was definitely getting looks, however, but he did his best to ignore them. He knew why they were looking at him funny. It was his choice of clors. Red, blue and gold were the obvious national colors of Meridell, and him sporting them as proudly as he was likely came off as strange to your average Brightvale resident. But nobody commented on it to his face, whether for better or for worse, so Ferrin just ignored it.

Finally, Ferrin passed by the stained glass window shop and stopped when he found where the standard dirt road stopped and a cobble path began. It led straight into a small square, and beyond it the moat that surrounded the castle. The drawbridge gate was closed, but that was to be expected. Though he could certainly see the guard at his post, ready to give the signal to lower the bridge if need-be. At the sight, the Scorchio decided that he'd done enough waiting. He was ready to head inside for this big, important mission that he'd heard King Hagan had been calling for. He still wasn't entirely sure what this was going to be about, but it was going to be an exciting first big mission as a sellsword. Thus far, he'd only done small, easy tasks like guard duty or be an escort. He could only hope that this task would suit his talents a lot better.

He could only hope that this would be fun.

Ferrin stepped down the cobble path, making his way into the square. He saw the guard at the gate snap to attention the moment he started forward, and the gate began to lower once more. He couldn't help but raise a brow at the sight. He hadn't even really spoken to him yet, but they were assuming he was one of these heroes they'd called for...? Well, he supposed that he just had that look to him.

With that thought on his mind, Ferrin smirked a bit, straightening himself out and trying to seem more awesome than he actually probably was. And when the old Draik approached, he nodded to him.

"Well met," Ferrin replied, unable to stop himself from flexing an arm. Clearly, he was a bit of a showoff. "The name's Ferrin Aren. Traveler and hero for hire, I suppose you could say." He then chuckled a bit at that. He liked that line. He lowered his arm back to his waist in order to tug at the heavy bag he kept on him, to straighten it out again. "Here to save the day."