[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XOHSI1W.png[/img]
Collab between [@The Muse] and [@Beard Dad]
[sub]Location: Northern Gates[/sub]
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The snow had stilled somewhat, gentle flakes falling down, the last remnants of an icy deluge that had buried the landscape. Dawnhaven sat in the center of it all, a chasm within the thick blanket that Aleksi waded through. Some hours had passed since he first laid eyes on this town, but his goal remained unchanged. When he left his people some few hundred yards back, he did so with the promise that he would find them sanctuary.

In times past, finding such safety would have been all but trifling with an army of raiders at his back. Circumstances were far different from before, they required a change in tactics. Aleksi loathed the prospect of having to grovel and prostrate himself, but he was prepared to do anything at this point for his tribe’s salvation, even a fleeting one.

Approaching closer to the gate he noted several tracks from horses, a sure sign of riders patrolling the outer perimeter, riders he was fortunate enough not to run across. He stopped short some few hundred feet before the gate, close enough to see several guards posted along the wall and in front of the gate.

The man set about lighting a torch to signal his approach, lest any wary archers attempt to shoot at any shadows that startle them. With flint in hand, he struck the rocks, their dazzling sparks igniting the makeshift cloth he wrapped around his walking stick. Fire lit, he began to make a careful and calm approach forward.

Snow crunched softly beneath the boots of patrolling guards as they made their slow circuits around the outer walls of Dawnhaven’s northern gate. High above them, archers walked the parapets with bows in hand, eyes sweeping the dark horizon. 

The flicker of orange caught the attention of an archer first, and he stiffened. With the recent attack, it had left every man on edge. 

[color=FA8072]“Light to the north!”[/color] he called to the rest of his comrades, his voice sharp with warning. 

Several bows rose in unison, trained on the slow moving glow beyond the gate. One of the sentries whistled down to the guards posted below, and soon the message was relayed to the one currently in command. 

As soon as Aleksi heard the first voice shouting, he stopped in his tracks. His torch had done the job, all he needed to do now, was wait.

Sergeant Langley sat atop a brown horse just inside the gate, his posture straight, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The moment the alert reached him, he gave a curt nod and barked out an order. 

[color=FFB19A]“Open the gates!”[/color]

The heavy doors groaned as they split apart, snow tumbling in from the edges as the guards pulled them wide enough for Langley to ride through. The Sergeant’s horse carried him forward at a steady trot, hooves muffled against the snowy road until he came to a halt just outside the perimeter. 

In the cold dark, Langley’s eyes narrowed. He scanned the approaching figure’s silhouette, noting the furs and the large build. No horns, no tail… but that didn’t rule out much. These days, the blight-born came in countless demonic forms—some barely even perceptible! He shifted in his saddle, jaw tight. 

[color=FFB19A]“Halt!”[/color] Langley shouted, voice cutting through the still air. [color=FFB19A]“Identify yourself and state your business, traveler.”[/color]

Aleksi’s eyes narrowed as the man on horseback approached him, the darkened armor of Lunaris emerging from the shadows as he began barking at him. The old man had mentioned that those of both nations resided here, the prince and princess of both leading the settlement. Despite knowing there was a chance he wouldn’t get an Aurelian, he fortunately was already prepared to handle difficult negotiations. Aleksi removed his fur lined hood and lowered the wool mask from his mouth, revealing his tattoos to the soldier.

The sergeant’s jaw tensed. 
A tribal leader. [i]Of course[/i]. 

[color=EB5406]“I am Aleksi,”[/color] he answered, [color=EB5406]“I have come to negotiate safety and sanctuary for my people.”[/color] His words flowed out smoothly and clearly. Unlike the rest of his tribe, Aleksi had been born and raised into the common tongue long before the tribe took him in. This was one of the reasons he’d been selected to lead his people to safety, so he could be a bridge between two worlds; the old and the new.

Langley’s brows lifted slightly. His gaze swept the horizon behind Aleksi, scanning for movement in the shadows. When none revealed itself, he returned his eyes to the man’s. 

He followed his statement to the guard with, [color=EB5406]“Where is the one they call Flynn Astaros? I would speak with him on this matter.”[/color] Lunarians are old enemies of the tribe, no use in subtleties when any misspoken phrase or unbidden step could land him in an early grave. For the moment, it was in Aleksi’s best interest to be direct in the face of steel and arrows.

[color=FFB19A]“The Sun Prince is busy.”[/color] Langley replied flatly, voice hard as frost. A pause followed. The horse beneath him shifted and snorted in agitation, as if sensing the tension. 

Accepting one person at a time into Dawnhaven was easy enough—but an entire tribe? 

[color=FFB19A]“How many have you brought?”[/color] he asked, carefully refraining from calling them tribal dogs. 

Aleksi’s eyes narrowed, the tension in the air was palpable, but he pressed on against this barrier. [color=EB5406]“Enough mouths to be a concern…not enough blades to be a problem.”[/color] He raised his head, tilting it slightly, his eyes on the walls, mentally counting each arrow nocked. [color=EB5406]“You won’t find them and they will not come until safety is promised. A promise I will claim from your Sun Prince, one that holds weight.”[/color]

Langley’s brow furrowed. The answer didn’t sit right with him. He’d dealt with enough of these barbarians to know that they were always problems—heavily armed or not.

Yet it wasn’t his call to make. 

Volkov had already reprimanded more than one soldier for disregarding the policies set forth by the Princess and her husband. Policies that seemed to welcome every stray with a sob story. 

And the sergeant had no interest in landing on Volkov’s shit list—literally cleaning out shit from the stables.  He hadn’t earned his rank by disobeying orders, and he wasn’t about to start now. At least this particular barbarian spoke the common tongue properly. 

His gaze finally returned to the soldier, [color=EB5406]“If the sun is truly absent, perhaps the moon would attend me instead.”[/color] Something told him that would not be possible either, [color=EB5406]“or do I need to be more drastic and surrender myself into your custody to behold their glorious incandescence?”[/color] Just saying the word surrender felt wrong, but in dark times, desperate measures needed to be taken.

[color=FFB19A]“Sanctuary isn’t given freely.”[/color] Langley said, voice gravel, sharpened by years of service. [color=FFB19A]“You will speak to the Prince’s advisor first. If he doesn’t send you packing, perhaps you’ll get your audience.”[/color]

He turned his horse slightly, gesturing with a sharp nod toward the open gate now lit by torchlight. Archers still lingered on the parapets, bows lowered but strings taut. 

[color=FFB19A]“Come. Weapons stay sheathed, understood? No tricks, no games—or you’ll find yourself back in the wilds.”[/color] 

Langley clicked his tongue and started forward, leading Aleksi toward the uncertain warmth of the city beyond. 

Aleksi nodded, knowing full well the gravity of his situation, at least he was allowed to keep his weapons, even if the notion felt foolish. Perhaps this was the start of trust built on faith, a fragile one, but a start.

One foot after the other, he followed after the guard, one arm raised with a torch, the other calmly by his side. Warily he watched the guards, bows lowered, but eyes still alert. Fortunately for them, he was not here to cause trouble, too much was at stake for any missteps taken. As he crossed the threshold, the massive wooden gates creaked and groaned as the heavy wood closed him within the walls of the lion’s den.

Giving a sharp whistle over his shoulder, Langley reined his horse to a halt. From the top of the gate, two guards began to descend—one clad in Lunarian blackplate, the other in Aurelia’s shining silver. 

Dismounting, Langley stepped down to meet Aleksi face-to-face. He was slightly shorter, but solidly built and no less imposing. The sergeant’s cold blue eyes lingered on the tattoos across the man's face, then flicked to the two younger guards who had joined them, both watching the new arrival warrily. 

[color=FFB19A]“Take this one to the watchpost,”[/color] Langley ordered flatly. Then, after a pause, he added with the faintest trace of disdain, [color=FFB19A]“And send a runner to inform the Prince’s… [i]blighted[/i] advisor.”[/color] 

The old man had told him that blightborn lived here, that information alone nearly caused his group to schism further, but he was able to hold it together. Aleksi had assumed that maybe the blightborn here would be treated more like workers if not slaves, but to hold a high position like an advisor? It was an unexpected development, laid even further knowing he’d have to speak with this advisor first. Aleksi’s grip tightened around his torch, his confidence undeterred as the two guards led him to his destination.

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