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Moon
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2010
Alexor, the city of the sky, or so it was called, although Agnin failed to realize the meaning behind the mantra. The city was filled with stout mason buildings which lined the streets, each of varying heights and widths creating a miss-match of rectangular structures, each punctured with small windows, and lined with worn oaken frames. He enjoyed the city though; it’s location in the central planes making it a prime market for trade between the neighboring settlements. There was always something new to be found in the market streets, and with vigilant eyes he sought these treasures.
His narrow boots tapped against the cobblestone street as he weaved his way through the crowd, a passing wagon driver nodding as he whipped the reins on his horse, sending a commanding whistle to the gentile beasts. Agnin gave a small wave, his face presenting a warm smile. He always enjoyed his trip to the Gold Court, the name given to the series of alleys and roadways at the heart of the city. Small make-shift awnings and stands lined the edges of the street where vendors and peddlers haggled with customers, trying to sell their wares for top price.
Agnin took a deep breath, the scent of food being cooked in a stand flooding his nostrils, delighting his senses. He was quite comfortable with the atmosphere, and was always curious why his mentor despised it so. It also gave him a chance to get out and stretch his legs, a welcome change to the dimly-lit study he spends a large portion of his time in.
He was a tall man, reaching a height of roughly five foot eleven, and was quite thin. He wasn’t very muscular due to his trade, but he was quite healthy and well groomed. It was easy to see he had some coin in his purse, garbed in a velvet red jacket and black trousers. His belt, adorn with a silver buckle, had several small pouches dangling from it, wide open to tease any pickpockets that may have wandering eyes, though they dare not try to steal from him, as they would swiftly learn their lesson.
Agning was a wizard apprentice, and although he didn’t practice in public, mostly due to the strict regulations, he did take measures to protect himself, even if subtle. Although he was an apprentice, he was still quite a capable scion of the arcane arts, having been in training for ten years, give or take. His master was one who believed that these arts weren’t something one could learn with a few courses, or even in ones lifetime, and proclaimed to Agnin that he would be an apprentice until his breath ceased to flow from his chest. This didn’t bother him in the least, as he enjoyed the company of the elderly man, his knowledge and talent something he looked up to, and aspired towards.
The noon sun beating down on the city was hot, but a lovely cool breeze offset its warm embrace. Today Agnin was in search of some components for his teacher, so that he could perform a new spell he had dug up from his archives. Agnin, on the other hand, was keeping his eye out for some valuable treasure of his own; he couldn’t travel to the market without picking up a trinket or two for himself.
Spotting a dried green plant hanging on one of the many stalls snapped the man from his daze, he ventured over to inspect the herb, identifying it as the one he was looking for. He searched about for the owner of the stand, spotting a woman nearby. “Good day.” He asked, pointing to the dried plant that was here. “Could you identify this plant?” he inquired, knowing full well what it was, but he always felt the need to test others on their knowledge, a small quirk he possessed.
The woman would see that Agnin was indeed handsome. He possessed gaunt cheeks and a light brow, though his face was more soft than jagged. He had iced hazel eyes that contrasted with his inky black hair, which was quite well groomed, trimmed to a short length. His jaw line was lined with a beard, which met at his mouth in a simple goatee.
His narrow boots tapped against the cobblestone street as he weaved his way through the crowd, a passing wagon driver nodding as he whipped the reins on his horse, sending a commanding whistle to the gentile beasts. Agnin gave a small wave, his face presenting a warm smile. He always enjoyed his trip to the Gold Court, the name given to the series of alleys and roadways at the heart of the city. Small make-shift awnings and stands lined the edges of the street where vendors and peddlers haggled with customers, trying to sell their wares for top price.
Agnin took a deep breath, the scent of food being cooked in a stand flooding his nostrils, delighting his senses. He was quite comfortable with the atmosphere, and was always curious why his mentor despised it so. It also gave him a chance to get out and stretch his legs, a welcome change to the dimly-lit study he spends a large portion of his time in.
He was a tall man, reaching a height of roughly five foot eleven, and was quite thin. He wasn’t very muscular due to his trade, but he was quite healthy and well groomed. It was easy to see he had some coin in his purse, garbed in a velvet red jacket and black trousers. His belt, adorn with a silver buckle, had several small pouches dangling from it, wide open to tease any pickpockets that may have wandering eyes, though they dare not try to steal from him, as they would swiftly learn their lesson.
Agning was a wizard apprentice, and although he didn’t practice in public, mostly due to the strict regulations, he did take measures to protect himself, even if subtle. Although he was an apprentice, he was still quite a capable scion of the arcane arts, having been in training for ten years, give or take. His master was one who believed that these arts weren’t something one could learn with a few courses, or even in ones lifetime, and proclaimed to Agnin that he would be an apprentice until his breath ceased to flow from his chest. This didn’t bother him in the least, as he enjoyed the company of the elderly man, his knowledge and talent something he looked up to, and aspired towards.
The noon sun beating down on the city was hot, but a lovely cool breeze offset its warm embrace. Today Agnin was in search of some components for his teacher, so that he could perform a new spell he had dug up from his archives. Agnin, on the other hand, was keeping his eye out for some valuable treasure of his own; he couldn’t travel to the market without picking up a trinket or two for himself.
Spotting a dried green plant hanging on one of the many stalls snapped the man from his daze, he ventured over to inspect the herb, identifying it as the one he was looking for. He searched about for the owner of the stand, spotting a woman nearby. “Good day.” He asked, pointing to the dried plant that was here. “Could you identify this plant?” he inquired, knowing full well what it was, but he always felt the need to test others on their knowledge, a small quirk he possessed.
The woman would see that Agnin was indeed handsome. He possessed gaunt cheeks and a light brow, though his face was more soft than jagged. He had iced hazel eyes that contrasted with his inky black hair, which was quite well groomed, trimmed to a short length. His jaw line was lined with a beard, which met at his mouth in a simple goatee.
