William
**Hemian Kallandrim | Sol city**

A man clad in a ragged cape emerged from the forest and unto the fields. Accross those fields, he walked with the limp of seasons but without stop until he reached the road. There, the traveller became but one among many drops of color flowing down the river of mud. Only when the gates of Sol were in sight did the figure show hesitation.

Something bumped him from behind. Seems not all travellers had patience for men who decided to have a contemplative moment right in front of the main gates.
He turned to reveal a grizzled face with a thick black beard. Gray lines of aging hair ran in pairs down the sides his mouth, and behind his ears.
Michelle
**Jora Sylgritte - Sol city**

The rustling of leaves. The crackle of fallen branches, snapping beneath a pair of heavy boots. As per usual, Jora had taken the liberty of carving her own path towards the capital. Her adventures across Araedia hadn't turned out exactly how she had hoped, at least monetarily; a fact very much evident by her moderately dishevelled state. 

Her flaxen mane, usually tied back and separated into long braids, now fell like curtains past her chest, swaying freely with each motion. Thought she still had a pair of bracers on, the rest of the armour she had acquired back in Erillia was nowhere to be seen, likely discarded along the way due to it being both beyond repair and too cumbersome to bother with. Instead, there was only a simple tunic adorning her tall, hardened frame, which too was covered in its fair share of patchworks and tears. 

It was quite obvious that Jora had been primarily living off the land for a good while now. If nothing else, she's clearly had plenty of time to hone her survival skills. Albeit, not by choice. After some more hiking, Jora eventually emerged onto the main path leading to Sol, where she got swept up by the crowd. She did draw a few concerned glances her way, though it probably had less to do with the bearded axe dangling from her belt and more with the fact that she looked like she'd been sleeping in a cave for the past few weeks, which wasn't entirely inaccurate. Still, behind the frizzled locks and smudged warpaint were those same icy eyes; an apt summary of her mood. 

"Watch it, old man." She spat out as she bumped into a fellow who seemed in far less hurry than her. Yet, instead of passing him completely by, she couldn't help but halt and glance back for a moment. 

The gates were before her and the stream of bodies showed no signs of stopping, but not many could cause the broad woman to budge if she didn't want to.
William
**Magistrate Soren Cotter Eadswulf**
*The Abigreth, Sol, Adainum Province, Terresol.*

Soren could feel how tense she was, it seemed to roll off her in droves. No wonder- *She did after all piss off a Queen*. Not that it mattered now, Charity was of no use to the Southern Pantheon and those resident at the Abigreth knew it. "Charity is the least of our concerns- for better or for worse." The look in his eyes was serious despite the subtle smirk that clung to the corners of his mouth.

"*I can see that.* Nothing a bath and a good night's sleep won't fix, Magistrate." He answered sharply, waving his hand slightly. "Might be better to burn the dress than to wash it." He chuckled, moving along the corridor back towards his quarters. A quieter area of the Abigreth where Soren spent much of his time. 

"As busy as usual, one might imagine," He paused for a moment, rolling his eyes at the comment, "I will always frighten them. They don't know how to read me and see me as unpredictable- and for that they do not appreciate my company." He said calmly, "Not that I'm complaining. *As far as I'm concerned my demeanour is just fine*." His tone was cold but the comment was meant in jest, Soren had a particularly dry sense of humor that far too many missed out on, prefering to see him as more of an old tyrant than anything. 

"How do you say? You can't make an omelette without a few broken eggs." Soren shrugged slightly, the fabric of his robe trailing behind him as he approached the ornate wooden door to his quarters. He pulled a brass key from the folds within his garment before he swung the door open and invited his guest inside. He glided in behind her, moving to take a seat at one of the chairs in front of the roaring fireplace.

.
"Perhaps we should discuss the more pressing matters now? Is there anything significant you have to tell me- Charity is out of power and now our Sol, Terresol- has no ruler. Saris has yet to show me their will." He sighed, resting his head on his hand. "There is uncertainty in these times and there is a storm brewing, I can feel it in the deepest part of my stomach, it's a pit that keeps on growing."

**Hemian Kallandrim | Sol**

_"Watch it, old man."_

"By the gods. Cities and it's people, they are both filth," Was the first thing Hemian thought of when being pushed, but when he turned, what avaited him was the sight of a burly woman with an angry face. Not a urbanite by the looks of it. No. She was a warrior.
He'd been too quick to judge, to let his biases lay the blame on cosmopolites, and the Dryadic had decided to humble him for it.
"Forgive me," He told the tall woman as he bowed. "I'm not used to crowds. And by the looks of it seems you aren't either."

He gazed at Jora's battered oufit from top to bottom.
George
Aux Rylean
Vineyard District, Rikolto, Akno

 With a caravan behind him, Aux walked into the Vinyard district in a messily made suit of plate armor. He'd walk in front of the caravan with a straight back. As the rest of the caravan followed, the young warrior stared daggers at the people who came with him to make sure none of them took any goods from the trading cart. Despite seeming like a naive fool who found someone's armor and sword, he acted like a capable leader to the men in his caravan, helping them with their shortcomings and fixing problems that needed his assistance. Eventually, the men met up with a trader to barter wheat, barley, and other crops to prepare their town for the following winter.
Thomas
Lord Regent Derringer Hecate
Vineyard District, Rikolto, Akno

Derringer hesitated.  Aurelian didn't take a stance, or form a defense.  He guessed this was either a feint or a bait, and he didn't want to get it wrong.  Slowly, Derringer began stepping to his right, keeping his torso facing towards Aurelian as he began to circle him, searching for a more solid opening.
Dennis
**Aurelian Kallandrim
Vineyard District, Rikolto, Akno**

Aurelian smirked slightly. This older fellow seemed to actually know what he was doing. Aurelian kept up with his impeccable footwork, surveying Derringer as the foe attempted to circle around him. Aurelian kept his own torso facing Derringer, not allowing the older man even one chance to sneak around or behind him. Aurelian maintained the one-handed grip on his training sword, still trying to bait Derringer into taking a foolish gambit that he could exploit. Even as Derringer and Aurelian kept up this equilibrium, the general amount of openings Derringer could find remained practically negligible, and the same seemed to be the case for Aurelian. If they were going to exchange anytime soon, then it would likely be very two-sided.
Thomas
Lord Regent Derringer Hecate
Vineyard District, Rikolto, Akno

Derringer continued circling, each step a slow and calculated move.  He continued steadying his breathing, forming a goal within his head.  If the boy didn't have any openings, he'd have to make one.

Derringer suddenly tensed all of his muscles and lifted up his forward foot to stomp down.  As he did so, he thrust his head forward before pulling it back instantaneously.
Michelle
**Jora Sylgritte - Sol city**

Jora quirked a fair brow back at the considerably older man. She still hadn't fully turned to face him, rather just stood there like a monolith, looking over her shoulder—a very inconvenient monolith for anyone trying to slip past her. Ironic considering her impatience earlier, but she clearly wasn't immune to hypocrisy and, frankly, didn't care either way.

"Yeah." She muttered, her voice having grown raspy from lack of use.

Ordinarily, she would've just carried on, but the respect the man had shown her in spite of her brutishness gave her pause. These rumours, if true, were the opportunity she needed for a fresh start; perhaps she should've at least tried and regard others with some modicum of decency as well.

Jora sighed a turned her body fully—still no less an obstacle for those around her, of course, but that wasn't important. She pressed one set of knuckles to her waist and cleared her throat:

"Sorry, the last couple of days haven't been... Kind. You alright?"