<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/b1/d8/ea/b1d8ea1a767fcf81495b56f03181495c.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Vanyalanthiriel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=245537.msg12137541#msg12137541)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Old Bastion Keep | Near Front Entrance<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Those Nearby (None Directly)<br/><strong>Notable Content:</strong>Heading out for fresh air<hr/><br/>Though Vanyalanthiriel could not explain the burgeoning reasons behind the suddenness of it, life within the relative safety of Old Bastion Keep no longer satisfied her. Her fingers itched with the need to touch fresh dirt and take in the world with her eyes rather than secondhand stories heard from the mouths of distant travelers or scribbled tales within books. Upon the descent of the blood-orange sun, she almost always found herself seated atop the tall wall surrounding the city, dark eyes peering out into the distance.<br/><br/>In her unquenchable thirst for knowledge, the past few days since her awakening had been spent exploring all in which the city had to offer a young inhabitant. She did not shy away from darkened corners or alleyways nor did she miss an opportunity to learn more. Sometimes her methodology of acquiring such information was through questionable means such as hoisting herself up to crouch low on someone’s balcony or pressing her long, sensitive ears against one of the many rented rooms in local inns.<br/><br/>Some of those ventures did not end pleasantly, earning her ill repute in some circles, but she did not regret her choices, believing it was her right to learn more about people and their intentions. If she was honest with herself, another driving reason behind her snooping about the Keep at night was due to her inability to trust others at face value. Too many held the important details until it was convenient for them to reveal it. So hearing what others had to say about other people, situations, and even herself helped reassure her of their trustworthiness and usefulness in her pursuit for…<br/><br/>Alright, she was not exactly sure what she wanted at the moment. All that remained vividly clear was her desire for<em>more </em>than what she possessed at present. In all honesty, she could understand why she was in a guild. Her tactics were mostly self-reliant rather than being dependent upon others. And yet, it seemed to be another accepted facet of her life, such as the undeniable fact that she preferred wielding a bow to swords.<br/><br/>Vanyalanthiriel’s day had been a mostly uneventful one, filled with doing odd jobs in order to earn more income. Ingrained stubbornness and pride prevented her from indulging too greedily on the guild’s wares. In fact, there were some nights where she slept on her uncomfortable cot with an empty, growling stomach due to intensely disliking being the recipient of what she viewed as charity. She had a sneaking suspicion such “kindness” did not come without a price. Entering the rundown keep, she immediately took notice of those gathered around the blazing pit with contemplative and the occasional fear look on their faces. It was tempting to stride directly by them without stopping. Instead she took a seat at towards the back, close enough to hear every spoken word without being nearby the more boisterous members of the guild.<br/><br/>The female warrior’s words, though spoken somewhat hesitatingly, were not surprising or untrue. It was only so long the guild could support the vast bulk of new members without collapsing underneath their combined weight. What did surprise her was some people’s reacts to the idea of being made to work for their supper and shelter. Did they honestly think they would live out the remainder of their lives chewing blades of grass and fattening their stomachs with other people’s food? It was despicable. Vanyalanthiriel already had a plan in mind for how she would slowly wean herself from the guild’s assistance until she could function without their assistance.<br/><br/>Her nose crinkled with blatant displeasure at the mere idea of grouping at length with anyone. A quick glance around the room did not serve to inspire cooperation or desire within her bones. Admittedly, there were a few who spared her interest but she had not bothered with speaking to them. Of course, she observed their mannerisms and interactions with others from a distance but had not felt the need to seek a more direct and formal introduction. Her lack of desire to remain steadily decreased as some began sniping at each other.<br/><br/>Reaching behind herself, she pulled the heavy cloak atop her head, ears folding downward rather than protruding against the hood, and then headed back in the direction of the door. It was her intention to seek out the old guardsman’s office and create a copy of the maps for herself. The rest was uncertain. The door shut quietly behind her as she quivered a little from the cold night air. Could she do it alone? Lifting her hand, she pushed back the strand of her wavy hair with annoyance evident in her touch.