The inviting grasslands, mixing now with farmers fields, was a rather welcome sight after trekking through endless forests and grasslands, west to the city-state of Lómëdor. He had foraged for bits of fruit here and there along the way - which had luckily kept him sustained. The creeks that dot the landscape also offered some respite from malnutrition. He was visibly weaker than he had been after leaving his home so many weeks ago. There was color to his face, but he had been exhausted from travel. His bedroll had caught on fire a few days ago, leaving him to sleep on the hard earth. His hair wasn't maintained in the least - his attempts to wash it weren't really working very well. He had a scar from the encounter with an orc about a week back, which luckily didn't end up killing him from the poison on it. He hadn't seen a town in all of his travel, and met with only a few people - which weren't exactly the most helpful. He decided to go on his own, and he wasn't dead yet..Which was a plus. His clothing was torn, and needed repairs. The leggings which had been reinforced with leather padding had lost a bit of the padding - being torn countless times by thistles and thorns along the way. He simply looked like a mess. His staff was the only thing keeping him going. That was, of course, until he laid eyes on the city in the distance. His heart - if it weren't constrained to his chest, would have very well leapt from his body if it could have. Lómëdor was only about a mile away. And simply, he stepped forward.

Sareus stepped down onto the path before the gigantic gate - welcoming all travellers into the city. Sighing, he approached. His eyes were keen on the guards tending the gate, who offered him a simple smile, and opened it for him. Inside was a sight to behold..Countless people walked the streets, while buildings towered, flanking both sides of the main street. In the distance, he spotted the sign for an inn, and immediately made his way towards it. It would serve him best to get a good meal, and a good nights rest. Pushing open the door to the inn, a soft creak sounded. A few patrons glanced up from the bar - but most hadn't paid any attention. Glancing around, the young man stepped forward, dropping a nod towards the innkeeper and sliding him a few copper worth of coins.

"I've need of a meal, and a room to stay in for the night, if you wouldn't mind." he stated, simply. His eyes hadn't left the innkeepers from when he first started speaking to him, and he, despite his general weariness, held himself upright. He waited a moment as a plate was put together, and slid across the bar counter to him. Next to it was a simple key. He would have his meal in his room - he simply didn't want company right now. Ascending the staircase, he approached his door, unlocking it and stepping inside. It was simple - nothing too extravagant. A bed, a desk, and a cabinet to hold his clothing. First thing was first though - food. Sitting down at the desk, he sighed, glancing over the meal. Pork, potatoes, and a few carrots. It wasn't too long before it was all consumed. With a satisfied smile, he shifted in the wooden-chair, and took a drink from a mug of water brought up for him.

Sareus took this opportunity to settle himself. Despite the weeks of fleeing his estate, he hadn't had a single moment to simply calm down. He was on edge constantly - and even now, had developed a slight shake in his hands. Processing a great deal of information at once has it's costs, and proved only to worsen Sareus's condition. His mind was best kept to being active though, and he attempted it. Leaving his room, he stepped out of the inn, into the mid-day sun. Perusing a nearby clothing shop, he acquired a new set of armor, as well as a fresh belt, and boots - all of which had worn out on him along his journey. With a nod, he stepped back to his room, where he proceeded to change. His old tabard and shirt were now gone - a beige undershirt was worn beneath a set of padded leather-armor, which consisted of a breast and backpiece, buckled together at the sides. The armor itself was a darker brown in color, managing atleast to match his shirt. A simple, black-leather belt was strapped around his waist, which supported a pair of black leggings - much like his previous ones, though the leather was reinforced a bit stronger, offering more protection, while not sacrificing much in mobility. Finally, he had a pair of new, black leather boots shod, fitted suprisingly well to his feet. A staff strap was worn over his back, and he looked quite a bit cleaned up. Looking himself over in a small mirror, he grinned, and shook his head. After taking all of these things off, he finally went to sleep - despite it being mid-day at the inn.

Cirdan had walked into the bar to get a drink. He had just come from a fight in the arena and wanted one. When he got to the counter he got a lot of glares from people. They didn't see a lizarian everyday walking around their city. And the others hated him because they lost bets in the fights. While some others had gained money but not much. After a while he had been on his forthtenth drink. He was still nowhere close to drunk. He was just as sober as when he walked in. He seemed to handle his alcohol very well. His eyes and mind still clear, if his mind ever was clear.

Someone else in the inn came up to Cirdan. The man spat on his shoulder and cursed at him. He proably lost money on a fight or something. Cirdan swung his arm out and sent the man flying and hit a wall. He growled as other people with weapons jumped to their feet. After seeing that they proably were not gonna let him leave. For all Cirdan knew, the man he just struck was already dead. Two of the people ran at him as one blade slid across his scales barely hurting it and he grabbed the skull of the other. He picked up the man and used him as a weapon crashing him into the other one and then crushed the one in his hand's skull. He knew this was going to get more violent so he put money for his drinks on the counter and waited for the others to attack.

After killing another one they started to run up the stairs. Cirdan followeed and grabbed one now on the second floor where the others where. This one had used the bulls strength spell and was matching his strength almost equaly. Cirdan bulled rushed the guy plowing the small human across the floor and into the others. He had wecked a few doors in his rage. He pushed them all though a wall and into a room. He was not going to calm down easily.


((OOC: Not much peace here.))

:: A man burst through the door of Laeinu's room, stumbling to the ground unconsious in a bed of splinters from the wall. Startled, Laeinu looked up to see the cause of the man's problems - A hulking, rather dangerous looking Lizard like creature stomping the halls of the upper floor. There goes his sleep. It proved atleast a little useful to him - though, he was beginning to experience a nightmare, but luckily the man woke him..to another. Gathering up his things, and fitting his armor on, he snatched up his staff, and charged out the door.. ::

:: He wasn't too happy. Stepping over the wounded man and out into the hall - his feelings were a mix of annoyance, frustration, and general anger - all hinted with a touch of concern for the rest of the inhabitants of this inn trying to enjoy their time. As he steps out into the hall, another body flies past him, sailing into the far wall and hitting with a gruesome crunch. There weren't any other men for him to pick on on this level anymore - the rest had been downstairs, with the only means of reaching the stairwell to go through this rather determined looking young man. He gripped his staff tightly, keeping it level on the..beast.. across the room from him. He was prepared - to say the least. Finally, he speaks, his voice authoritative and strong.

"What are these halls to you, Places of slaughter? This is a blasted inn, and you've now committed murder in this city. It will not be tolerated - so I suggest you surrender yourself now. The Guard is on their way here, I swear you that, and they will not be as kind to you as I." he finishes, keeping his attention steady on the one opposite him - perhaps twenty foot or so down the hall.

Cirdan had seen another man take up a staff and aim it towards him. He seemed want to keep the peace of the place as he spoke. Cirdan calmed himself as much as he could. "I not fight first this time." he spoke in a low tone that was not aproving or disaproving of anything. Cirdan walked towards the man. "If human want to fight Cirdan, I will. I say you use better weapon then stick, it will not priece skin." Cirdan said. At this moment he did not want to continue with someone who did not seem to want to fight. This also wasn't the place for a fight anyways. If it continued it may cause the whole building to fall. Cirdan turned around with what room in the hall he could afford and went back downstairs.

Laeinur turned. He was fuming. This..beast..Had just tossed out the murder of men - a number of them - as if it were a piece of unwanted trash. Stepping after the beast, he narrowed his eyes, raising his voice again as he followed him down the steps, still gripping the staff in his hands.

"Stop! You will not simply walk away from this! You murdered a number of men, and that warrants justice on part of the city you committed this crime in. You will stay with me, until the guard arrives."

He stated, his tone now edging on that of anger, though not quite there yet. He wasn't shouting, his tone was more on the lines of stating a fact.

He had reached the bottom of the steps - most of the inn had been evacuated due to the scuffle earlier - in which two men had perished on this floor alone. One looks to have had his head crushed - which wasn't exactly a promising sight for the young man. The other was simply a heap in a corner, broken as if he were a ragdoll. Determination seemed to take over - despite the creature towering over him, and weighing more than four times his weight. Planting his feet, he leveled his gaze at the beast, setting the end of his staff against the ground. A few patrons who hadn't managed to escape the inn were huddled in the corner - quite frightened to run across the length of the building without being killed by the monster.

"Do you understand me?" He stated, in the clearest Adǔnaic he could muster. He did not seem to be in the mood to negotiate anything.

Cirdan tried to ignore the man's constante complaining about something. He sort of just tuned out. But it seemed as he would not give up. He cursed at him in his native tongue that would only sound like a grunt to the man. "I understand ok, just not lis'en'in." he said as the man got infront of him struggling with the last word a bit. He went over and sat down at the bar and put money on the table to pay for the damages. Proably not enough but a good sum. He can barely remember where he got the money.

:: His patience had run out. Laeinu shifted, and immediately made a few steps towards the creature. How did this beast expect to pay for lives as if they were pocket change? Just then, a few city guardsman rushed in. A sigh of relief washed over the young man as he wouldn't have to face the creature alone. Leaving the situation to the guard, he stepped out of the way, heading out the door back into the streets. His time here was over - and now it was a Crime scene. Best to move on.

Cirdan grunted when the guards looked at him and sighed. "Again Cirdan?" one of them asked. Cirdan just looked at him and said or did nothing. "I think you should go to angry managment or something." the guard spoke again. Cirdan just walked out the door. Raplh doesn't tell me what Cirdan needs." he said ignoring the guards. They weren't going to try and stop him again. The first time they lost three men. The second time, badly injuried most of them and killed one. They were just going to let him go on his way.