Yean was amazed at the size of the great city of Lómëdor. It was unlike anything he had seen and far greater than any ‘huge’ town he had come across on his journey. He had been roughing it in buses for most of the nights when he hadn’t come across any farms, and on those occasions he did he worked harder than he ever used to for a little hay to sleep on and some scraps of beef stew. The journey itself had been full of perils the roads between villages and towns in the beginning were few and far between, several times he had narrowly avoided bandits patrolling the long stretches of road, especially the parts shaded in trees. Closer to Lómëdor however other enemies showed though. The few villages where crossroads ran though where hubs for trade, from the local farms and from great distances however all the traders were alike. Men shouting and growling with biting whips and spitting on walkers, directed the merchants wagons, while the guards leaned out from the side and added there jeers to any foolish enough to get in their way, and those who didn’t for that mater.
Walking into the city he had just time enough to roll out of the way from a coach going out to the country side, right into the path of another, yet a slower one. The merchant himself had looked slightly sympathetic but the driver had simply drawn back his arm. Wondering what he was doing Yean had had just enough time to lift his arm. The end of a whip slashed down just beneath his eye cutting deep, and producing a lot of blood instantly. The force and shock of the blow tossed him aside just enough for the cart to get by. Yean however was on his feet straight away, if with out the use of an eye. Taking his staff in hand he hit the driver off his seat onto the hard paved ground, and then reeled on the merchant. As both were on the cowering and waiting for the rapidly approaching mailed guards, Yean told them of there wrongs and how they had no right to do what they did. Either because of the guard’s arrival or that the city folk agreed they leapt quickly out of the way as he ran.
The cities buildings where many and large dwarfing anything he had ever seen twice over the palaces there something altogether different. After successfully outrunning the guards he hoped he hadn’t angered anyone powerful, even merchants could have influence … and who would listen to him? He didn’t even have a home. Moving out of the more prosperous sector he went looking for a pub he had been informed of where criminals and the like hang out. Where criminals went must be someone to find who he wanted looking for, the lord had come straight to here. Winding his way though the crowded streets as the sun set, he made himself as big as possible to the many people looked out from the alleys and gaps between houses, to put them off. The sight of a larger building with light streaming out of it accompanied by the load boisterous noise from within, finished of with the unfair fight outside where four men beat another unmercifully, and then taking all his gold.
Shrinking away from the men as the walked passed sharing out the loot, Yean walked into the Drital Qu'ellar Pub wishing he could have helped that man. The noise hit him hard on the head when he stepped though the door. As always the smells and sights were extra ordinary. Tobacco was being smoked from every corner, food served to those who wanted it and a group of men gathered round a table where a dancing girl showing more of what Yean though too much while the men fought over who was the get a feel of her legs. Trying to ignore the chaos surrounding him, he barged his way to the bartender, who when seeing him spat a tooth on the floor and nursing his jaw, glancing at the man the guards throw out into the streets, leapt on by the street rats as soon as he hit the ground. Nodding satisfactorily the fat balding barkeeper listened to what he needed and directed him to a man sitting alone.
The slim but hard looking man then without talking directed him to the back of the inn. Out in the back ally way it was a lot quieter and the man turned to light a pipe before talking “Looking for someone youngling? Must say you don’t look the type. First of all how much are you willing to pay? And who are you after?” his voice was light and almost had a tune. But was strangely solid and demanded a sort of respect. Yean hesitated before answering the man, this might be too much trouble for its worth. “I need you to find a lord that recently arrived into the city, named Lord Unsic. I can’t really give you much more descriptions am afraid but I want him alive. And as for the money I… I don’t really have any but you could take what ever he has o……” the man had rushed towards him in the dark ally way, slamming Yean to the wall. The clatter of the hunter’s pipe hit the floor with a clatter but it went unnoticed. “You want me to look for a lord? And you’re not going to pay me but expect me to steal like some thief!?” His fist swung forward punching the struggling Yean in the groin forcing him to gasp and retch as the other bunches hit him all around the chest.
“No ill think ill kill you for free.” A knife appeared in his hand faster than Yean thought possible, blade reflecting the light that seemed it couldn’t have come from any where in the darkness around them. It seemed strange that he should pick out detail on the blade as he waited for it to drive home. He could only hope for that slight chance of help.
A flash in the dark, an unspoken syllable, an icy grip. The knife was halted on its journey through the air, almost too late. The narrow, yellowed bones of an old skeleton gripped the hand as instructed, standing dumbly as it was, awaiting new instructions. A small pale figure stepped out from the darkness of the alley, two more of the living dead flanking her. In any other circumstance she would have looked faintly ridiculous, this little girl standing alongside two ancient warriors of a time long past.
“Hello” the little girl said, her voice friendly and open. Strange for one so young to be so cheery in the presence of a weapon.
Lyra waved her hand and the skeletons advanced on the man wielding the knife, folding his arms in, pushing against him with all of their undead will. In a moment her stood there immobile, grunting and groaning with the force of the three skeletons pinning him to the alley wall. Lyra smiled, they were such good helpers and she loved to have them around. She looked to the man who had been so close to death.
“Are you Ok?” She asked, raising her voice over the noise of the now screaming villian.
((Sorry it's a little short, but I really need a topic))