The Land Bridge (Post here first)

The Guard stared, somewhat suspicious that she took some of the offered sweets but didn't eat them, but he didn't have the time to care. The Guard stared for a few moments from behind his face plate, rubbing his eyes wearily through the slit. "Do you at least know vhere you are?" He demanded, now really confused as to what to do. 

"The Southern Border upon the Land Bridge of the Divine Empire of Vessia." He said, chest beaming with pride. "You are not supposed to be here. Foreigners are not supposed to be here. Do you know how to get home, whenever that is?" 

The man shook his head with the knowledge Katashima was in a cataclysmic civil war. He couldn't get her there if he tried or had lots of money; which he did not. "I can't do that, no." He said, taking off his helmet but still keeping t chainmail and leather coifs upon his head and face as a balaclava substitute. He stared out the window and sighed once more. "You have to leave I'm afraid. How about this, we'll give you a little coin and safe passage to the end of the land-bridge, and from there you can get to the open road. Once there you can go to Isra or some other state and there you can get help. Alright?" He said hoping all was resolved.

The man wiped his brow in relief, knowing that the problem was almost dealt with. He would bang on the door and speak to a man on the other end who would come and blindfold Kiara and then she would be lifted out. She would be placed on a horse and then taken on a trip a little longer than twenty-four hours. Luckily, she washed up on a coast and was taken to an outpost that was near the overworld known to most. When finally her blindfold would be taken off she would be let free to relive herself, but told to return in a few minutes. "Right, the open road is that way, you can probably find where you need to go from there." The man would throw a sack with unmarked silver coins, bread and a waterskin before her, and then rode off. She could try to head into Vessia, but it was a very long trip which she probably did not have enough supplies to get across.

The particular rout @baaladur  was on had state troops, the common soldiers patrolling. They were in foot wi the standard Gothic Plate armour, halberds or crank-crossbows among the majority while the officer carried a gilded zweihander with a flame-shaped blade and no ricasso. One happened upon the sight of the young "man," and the officer tugged at his telescope to stare. Cursing a little the men began to march after Baaladur. They weren't cowards but they didn't want to deal with this. 

The officer was glad that the sighted figure was going away, as we're the troops. They didn't want to die, especially not so long after a holiday and when there was ale and money left over. The groups musicians would not play knowing that it wasn't a proper scrap coming up. They would walk towards @baaladur at a brisk steady pace, not rushing but not stalling; just the bare minimum they could without a superior giving them a thrashing. 

A weary evening - the stars were already starting to pop up one after another as the sky deepened to a darker shade of the night and twinkle across the canvas. The last few rays of the day were slowly retreating over the horizon with the casting orb of warmth as it settled to rest. The idea of stopping to do just the same was a tempting one, and probably a safer option than attempting.

At a glance, a young man eases his steps to come to a gradual stop - the hand resting easily under the chin of the grey Shire mare that pulled along a worn but simple wagon with a burlap tarp lashed down across the top, and bringing her to stop with him. He showered her in thankful affection with a few pats along her face and stroking her mane. A powerful but beautiful animal, who was a good friend.

The man reached beneath the front of the wagon, before the wheels, and released a pair of legs to let them stand - then releasing the animal from her harness so it would rest without completely tip forward on the only pair of wheels it was built upon. With a few soft words he gave her hindquarters a pat, letting her wander off the worn road to find the grassy expanses to graze at her leisure. He, however, moved to the wagon again to retrieve the few items he had carried along and what little firewood he had to create a small fire pit for the night. It wouldn't be long before the night fell and the fire eventually grew to light. A carefully wrapped package was found and the paper unwrapped to find a few cuts of salted elk meat. A couple of them were skewered and set over the flames to cook. In the meantime, he stretched out as far as he could on the ground with arms over his head - taking solace in the sense of relief he felt in his body when he relaxed afterwards.

He had to admit, despite the fact he was looking to settle down... lying under the stars was actually refreshing.

The initial sounds brought his head up. Then he sat up, before hastily rising to his feet - eyes sweeping around to count the number of heads and find the realization that he was surrounded. Knights, or soldiers. His first reaction was a tension - a prior memory of a similar situation springing to the front of his mind.

It took a bit of restraint to calm himself, unfurling his hands from fists and trying to relax his shoulders. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Maybe he was trespassing along this landbridge. "What would th-"

Laughter. His head whipped about to look at the soldiers as they were laughing, and moving in upon his tiny camp - apparently helping themselves to his dinner. His eyes narrowed to a disapproving leer as his pointed ears lowered - easily pointing out through his silver/grey strands. His attention would move to the commander in charge, taking a moment to chew on his lip as he contemplated his words.

Once he was allowed to reply, his lips parted - uttering out a soft, silky ribbon of words in something that wasn't Common. But then he spoke clearly - polite, if not a little annoyed. "I, uh... apologize if I am doing something I shouldn't. I am Adamar, and I'm simply looking for a new place to call home."

Despite how his patience was normally really tolerant, something about this band of men and their leader was thinning his reserves. He mulled the information given over in his mind for a bit, his expression refusing to soften.

"What kind of 'variety' am I labeled as? Do your people have a problem with a man looking to retire? Or is because I am very much an Elf?"

For the moment he settled with his inquiry, hoping to avoid a situation of money unless it was necessary. And skills? That was the whole reason to travel and look to retire - he had grown tired of using his particular talents.