"I don't like this, Ragnus," Isendir muttered to the dwarf as the group approached Juliec. He cast a glance over his shoulder. "We'll stick out like a sore thumb. A fae, a Sylvari, a dwarf, and a Sylvanaar? We should bypass it."

"We need the supplies," Ragnus grumbled in return. He huffed out a breath, only to see it stain the air in front of him. He angrily pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Besides, no one would dare mess with a mage, or even an elf with an axe, for that matter." He grinned up at Isendir. "What, don't think you can handle a few muggers?"

The journey to Juliec had taken three days, and in those three days, the temperature had gotten much colder. Luckily, however, the snow had stayed up in the heavens, where, according to Ragnus, was where it belonged.

The trees that lined the cobblestoned road were now completely bare, and the wind tore right through them and the cloaks that the companion's wore to try and fend it off. The sun was just beginning to near its resting place beyond the horizon, causing the tree branches to creep across the road like long, skeletal fingers.

"Very funny, Frostjaw." Isendir sighed and promptly yawned. He looked at the line of people queued at Juliec's gates with a grim, less than impressed eye.

"Isn't there a fee of some sort to enter?" Varenyl asked, suddenly walking right beside Isendir.

The Highlander jumped. "Dammit man, how the hell do you move so quietly?" He shook his head in annoyance. Ragnus's snickering did not go unnoticed by him. "And yes, there is. But I have that covered."

"I don't deem it wise to draw attention to ourselves in such a place like this," the elf continued dryly. "We'll stick out like a sore thumb."

Isendir nodded in agreement. "That's exactly what I said."

"Bah." Ragnus threw his hand in the air. "I've been to Juliec before. When you see what kind of people are in this place, you'll realize that we really won't stick out at all. I swear I saw a human with purple hair last time I was here."

"The elders in my village would tell stories of their travels to the outside world," Aerysdren said from where he walked next to Lorthrendel. "But only a few ever talked of Juliec. They say elven kind isn't welcome there," he added quietly.

"We'll deal with that when we get there," Ragnus sharply returned. The cold had put him in a sour mood.

"Will they search us?" Lorthrendel asked after a while.

"No." The dwarf shook his head.

After about five minutes, the group stood at the gates. The guard standing there scrutinized them, a large notebook in his hands.

"Twenty five steel. It's free if the elves and horse are merchandise," he said coldly, eyeing Varenyl and Aerysdren. Lorthrendel put a gentle hand on Varenyl's shoulder to keep the Sylvari from decapitating the guard then and there.

Isendir angrily smacked a coin purse in the guard's hand. "We're just passing through."

"Hmph." The guard opened the purse and narrowed his eyes as he counted the coins. After a while he wrote something down in his notebook and gestured his head towards the open gates, signaling them to go on in.

When they entered, it was like stepping into a whole other world.

People bustled about and town criers shouted out the current news, prices, and time. Stalls selling food, jewelry, and clothes formed a circle around the marketplace, and decorative banners hung from building to building. Snow blanketed the roofs and sidewalks, and people mounted on horses or carriages shuffled through the crowd of people. It had a very decent and modern feel to it, which was not what Aerysdren had been expecting at all.

He cast Lorthrendel a questioning glance as they walked through the crowd. "Are you certain that what I've been told all my life about this place is true?"

"I'd show you the slave markets and arena if Isendir would allow me," Lorthrendel returned dryly. "Not that I take orders from him. I have simply grown to respect his judgement. But believe me, Sylvanaar, this is all a lovely facade to mask the sin and iniquity that lurks deeper inside. Stay close to me, and don't look at anybody."

They made their way through the marketplace and went down a much less crowded street. The buildings were very tall, and constructed out of brick. Even the roads underneath their feet were made of the hard, red-brown material. But the buildings themselves were very lovely and well kept. The windows were all clear and clean, and the doors were painted a dull red that blended nicely with the brick houses.

Signs hung outside a few, each finely carved and decorated. Names such as "The Broken Sword Handle", "An Alchemist's Glory", "The Librarian's Nook", and "Aelyxandria's Discount Spells" presented themselves to them in beautiful and creative designs and fonts.

"Never trust a 'discount spell'," Lorthrendel said in disdain as they passed the shop in question. "You'll end up catching your bloody head on fire, or worse. I knew a woman who bought a spellbook from a place like that once. She cast one spell and promptly fell into a coma for five weeks. Very nearly died. And she had only even cast a novice fireball spell."

"Here." Isendir came to a halt in front of a larger building with a sign outside that read, "The Dancing Grass Inn."

"Unload everything from the horse and I'll go stable her," Ragnus grumbled. "Check in first. I ain't doing all this just for there to be no rooms available."

"Alright." Isendir nodded. "Lorthrendel, come with me. Varenyl and Aerysdren, stay with Ragnus."

The Highlander and the mage walked inside, leaving the other three behind.

They returned shortly after.

"Unload the horse," Isendir ordered as soon as he walked out. He shivered. "We have to double up. Ragnus and I, and Varenyl, Aerysdren, and Lorthrendel."

"More like triple up," Varenyl commented. He sighed. "Do we need supplies?"

"Yes." Isendir nodded. "I will go out in the morning before we leave and fix that."

"Can we please go in now, mr Isendir sir?" Aerysdren begged, clutching at his thin cloak as if his life depended on it. The group could practically hear his teeth chattering.

"Lorthrendel, take him on in." Isendir gestured with his head towards the door. "We'll finish with the horse."

"Come on." Lorthrendel walked inside with Aerysdren following close behind.

The common room of the inn was quite welcoming for a group of people who had been on the road for the past week or so. A golden fire roared in the silver laced hearth, and a crimson rug sat in front of it with some chairs sitting on top. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room. A dark wooden stairwell led to the upper floors, not far from the desk where visitors could check in. The room was empty for the most part.

Lorthrendel led the Sylvanaar up the stairs and entered the first room down the torch-lit corridor.

"Here." The mage crossed his arms. "A bit nicer than Iksyn, isn't it?"

A fire burned in this room as well. A bunk bed was pushed up against the wall, and a window overlooked the street next to them. A few chairs and small tables were placed about.

"Huh huh. It feels so good in here." Aerysdren yawned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "There's not enough mattresses for all of us." He looked questionably up at Lorthrendel.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he replied. "Varenyl should take the top bunk since the bastard's tall enough to hit his head on the roof of the other one." The mage shut the door and sat thankfully down in a chair and began to take his gloves off. "There's a bathhouse on the first floor but don't go without one of us going with you." He cast the boy a wry glance. "Preferably not Varenyl. And make sure you stay out of the women's one."

"Okay." Aerysdren sat his small pack on the floor and sat down next to it. "Do you not trust Varenyl?"

"That, and the fact that we're in Juliec," Lorthrendel returned. He massaged the back of his neck, trying to loosen his cramped muscles. "He knows that you're carrying something. He's been driven mad with grief, Aerysdren, and would do anything to accomplish his goal. But let's hush about him." He reached up and took the tie out of his hair for comfort, breathing out a soft sigh as he did.

At that moment, the door opened and Isendir stepped in, Varenyl behind him.

"Is everything alright?" asked the Highlander. "Mine and Ragnus's room is two doors down from this one if you need anything." He tossed Lorthrendel a sack that held their supper for the night.

The mage deftly caught it. "What time will we be leaving tomorrow?"

"I'm getting up early to go restock our supplies," Isendir said. He absently cracked his fingers. "I'll wake you when I get back." He briefly laid a hand on Varenyl's shoulder before walking out and closing the door behind him. His cloak got caught in the door when he did, and he had to open it back up and close it again to free himself.

"I hate this place already," Varenyl muttered as he leaned his axe against the wall and took his own cloak off. He scratched his blond haired head and cleared his throat.

"It is really pretty though." Aerysdren inspected his fingernails. "Never in my life did I once think that I would be this far north. I wish I could see the docks."

"No you don't," Lorthrendel shortly returned. He suddenly stood up. "I'm going downstairs to the bathhouse. I'll be back shortly. Here's the food Isendir left us." He pointed to a sack on the table next to the chair he had been sitting in.

"You should put a rune or something on the door while we sleep," suggested Varenyl as the mage walked past him, "considering where we are. I'll probably be awake all night, but just in case."

"I will when I get back." Lorthrendel nodded. "I'm surprised you actually want me to do such a thing, Varenyl." He smiled and left before the Sylvari had a chance to reply. The door shut quietly behind him.

After he was gone, Aerysdren walked over to the sack on the table. He opened it a little to peek at what was inside, then promptly pulled out a green apple that they had bought from a small village two days ago. He took a bite out of it and yawned.

"You know, I used to think that apples could be used as weapons against clerics," the Sylvanaar said between chews. "Like if you threw one at them, they'd run away in fear." He shrugged. "When I was twenty five, I perched in a tree and threw one at a cleric of Lyna. She caught it, but did not run away afterwards."

A smile smile touched Varenyl's lips. He sat down on the edge of the bottom bed and massaged his temples, trying not to get a headache. He somehow managed to fall asleep in that position fifteen minutes later.

The group's night in Juliec would past quietly and peacefully.

For all but one of them, anyway. 

***🐉***

oof guess who finally updated xD I just want to go on winter break and not have to worry about finals, but I've already accepted the fact that I'm going to fail half of them, so why should I even bother *breathes* you know there's something wrong with the education system when people would rather be dead than wake up at 5:40 am each day and deal with school. 

anywaaayyy please tell me any criticism you have, and ways to improve. I just want to make my writing the best it can be, and I feel this chapter could use improvement anyway❤

please vote if you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading.

until next time~