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Date: 2017-01-18 09:30 pm (UTC)It always helps to have the right connections. If Jim were to be stuck here, well, Felix has no doubt they could find him a post that made use of his actual talents. Cyrodiil in particular is fertile ground for scholars and geographers and those handy with a quill.
They're reaching the main route into the city (on the eastern side of the lake), but they're not going to cross the long stone bridge over to the gate. Not yet, anyway. Where the bridge meets their side of the water is a sprawl of tile-roofed buildings: a sizable village in itself, and very well-kept for the volume of traffic currently passing through it. Cyrodiil is the type of place to have baskets of flowers hanging from the eaves and brightly-painted signs - and not a few stalls selling last-minute provisions to the travelers setting out.
There's also a trio of kids sitting on some barrels outside a candle shop. No sooner have Felix and Jim set foot in the place than one shoves his friend off the barrel and scarpers down the road ahead of them. Felix takes no notice.
"This is Medesgate - which is essentially another district of the City, but generally acts as if it's a town all to itself. Unless they're trying to sell you arena souvenirs," Felix adds with a nod to a stall full of merchandise for the Blues and the Yellows. "If we can get through the crowd, Marcella's house is out on the southern side."
Getting through is no easy task, though it's about to be made easier. There's a sharp whistle and the crowd parts, helpful people like Felix pulling their unwary companions aside. A pair of glossy black horses with lithe riders in green canter through, laden with bulging saddlebags. As soon as they're past Felix nips into the gap they've left, taking advantage of the opening to lead Jim quickly up the street. They're only minutes from home, and he can smell the home comforts from here.