The streets of Danelagh were broken and dusty, almost empty in the certain area that Ruavia walked, but the harsh and metallic footsteps of her heels cut the silence through the alleys and echoed up the stone walls of the surrounding buildings. Those that were gathered among the streets shrunk away in both awe and fright, for it was not everyday that an Alkhev walked the city, and their appearance was imposing to behold.<br/><br/>Tall, strong beings they were, standing at epic heights and causing a slight dwarfing in most around them. There was no shred of softness to the way they looked, for the heavy amounts of armor plating that adorned their body made them seem like ceremonious displays come to life, Ruavia's armor a perfect example; A shimmering silvery grey, with light blue trimmings and a furthermore scaled skirt that flowed behind her, covering long layers of silky and ornamental fabrics. The plates themselves inscribed with swirling designs and foreign patterns, shaped for maximum efficiency as they were also melded for beauty. Her helmet was horned and tailed, with the face of a Dragon-like and elegant beast staring forward, and a thick braided aesthetic "tail" of navy hairs fell down from the back of the helm and against along her plated back, pointed and covered in more metal near the end.<br/><br/>A huge and thick-bladed great axe was brought to her side, though the handle of it was extended to make it appear as if it were a pole-arm, the tip of the axe itself extended outwards in a spear-like fashion. Such grand weapons could not be held up by the average human male let alone a female, but the Alkhev were known to carry such items with ease - And though Ruavia was not by any means a tall member of her species, at a measly 6'2" without her armor and 6'5" with, the strength that she had was still evident.<br/><br/>Any whom knew their races well enough could tell she was female by her lack in height, though to the average villager whom had never seen a male Alkhev in their life, this was certainly not obvious from their androgynous adornments. Their kind were feared enough for what strange secrets they held; The way they crafted their armor, their horrendously long lifespans, and the strange types of Urges each one of their warriors used on their weapons for greater destructive force. It did not help that they almost never revealed their faces to anyone, but rumors did say that they were very human in appearance, if not perfectly so. Most Alkhev were rumored to be met by adventurers out in the wilderness, off to to excavating into some old ruins or trying to make a name for themselves, only to be met with the large knight-like warriors and to fall in a silent, wordless battle that only their own kind knew the reason for declaring. Their culture was alien and undocumented, since most of them never bothered to interact with any of the other kingdoms or alliances, and their exact settlements were not mapped. They were beings that, if bested, brought much honor to any soldier.<br/><br/>Ruavia herself, however, was no such threat in her mind. She had taken what she considered a leisurely walk towards the Dockside, as instructed by the Great Raven. She was on a mission for glory and honor - In this case, for so easily teaming up with the other races of the realm - as well as having high hopes of learning something new, for she was a fledgling now and free from her families' influence. Craw had provided a chance at this with his offer, and she believed it to be a worthy quest in order to test her capabilities.<br/><br/>The happenings of the city and the recent "annexation" into the Tiberian Empire were unknown and unimportant to the Alkhev, though that was not to say that the crime was unimportant in her opinion. The abuse of the innocent was not something Ruavia had ever believed in during her short life of one-hundred years in the world, and so the issue of bringing forth some sort of resolution was something she was more than willing to put her effort into. The coin was useless to her, and so was the appreciation of the people of Danelagh. Her birthright had already cemented how she would be viewed by this part of the world, and that was something unknown and to be feared. She was alright with this so long as she could do something<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>believed was right, and add to her experience for it in return.<br/><br/>The Mill came into view now, and her metallic clip-clapping of her grieves came to a stop. The long weapon she had been carrying so casually at her side was brought up to rest along her shoulder, her helm turned upwards to gaze at the sign with a bit of thought before it looked down and to the duo of individuals nearby, blinking before she spoke out in a polite, addressing manner.<br/><br/>"Greetings." The feminine voice called out with a metallic muffle from the helm, and she brought up a gauntlet to point very briefly to the inside of the mill.<br/><br/>"Is there a Great Raven inside, by any chance?"