Wylan van Eck, as Kuwei Yul-Bo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
daturameloxia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2024-04-01 11:00 am
daturameloxia) wrote in faderift2024-04-01 11:00 am
Entry tags:
I always unfold
WHO: Wylan and you!
WHAT: Wylan arrives in Kirkwall
WHEN: Just before All Mortals Shall Know - I
WHERE: Gallows and the Mess
NOTES: Possible mentions of verbal abuse
WHAT: Wylan arrives in Kirkwall
WHEN: Just before All Mortals Shall Know - I
WHERE: Gallows and the Mess
NOTES: Possible mentions of verbal abuse
I. Arrival
It's been a long road to Kirkwall. He feels as if every inch of him must be caked in mud as he crosses the final distance to the down to the Gallows. Exhaustion weighs him down, but he knows he won't be safe until he's behind the walls of the Riftwatch. The agent that took the two firebombs off his hands told him he'd have a lodging and food, so long as he worked.
It sounds like a miracle. And he can figure out some work that doesn't involve needing to read.
Or, at least, something he can fake until he can make his way.
He's so tired he doesn't notice the person in front of him until he collides with them.
"O-oh, I'm sorry," he tries to duck away. "Sorry. I was looking for the Gallows."
II. Food
Wylan quickly learns there's a place to eat, a free place and after setting his pack in his new room, he makes his way to mess for a meal. He still looks quite covered in mud, his hair wild and distressed, but he needs food more than a shower in this instance. Of course, he collects a few odd looks, so he finds a corner to sit in to chow down. He looks like he needs it, too; he's far too skinny for his height, but that could be from the journey he took to arrive at the Riftwatch.
Either way, he looks up when someone joins his table, a mouth full of food before he can properly greet them.
III. Gallows - Parapets
After eating his fill of food, Wylan heads back to the Gallows to do some more walking about. He eventually finds himself up on the parapets, overlooking what others have told him is the Waking Sea. The waves crash upon the rocks below him as the sun disappears beneath the horizon, painting everything in a warm tangerine light. Wylan can hardly believe he made it to the Riftwatch, or that they accepted him.
Still he has the lurking worry that his father is only a few leagues away, eager to find him and try again to eliminate his useless heir.
Wylan remains so focused on worrying about his father that when he hears foosteps, he nearly jumps out of his skin.
Only once he registers that this guest is not his father nor the two men who tried to kill him, Wylan offers a sheepish smile.
“Apologies, I was focused on looking out at the ocean,” he replies. “I’ve never seen an ocean like this before.
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He quietly sits up straight and nods.
“I’ll make some for you,” he continues with a grin.
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He was a slave, so he's still not quite sure how to manage exchanges around here.
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Wylan supposes things must be different here in the South, in a port, but for a moment he simply stares, trying to wrap his mind around how to answer. Should he be just as direct? His new friend seems strong enough to kill him— fingers curled around his throat— that perhaps he should lean on that.
He’s already in the Riftwatch, but he needs more than simple shelter.
“I need to learn how to fight,” Wylan answers.
“For the Riftwatch,” he tags on later, trying to make his words more reasonable.
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A pause. "How old are you?"
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He sets his jaw more firmly, more resolutely, “Eighteen.”
Which he will be in a few months, but no one needs to know the difference.
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