Things had certainly changed for the better in Hargeon, since the Traveler had first entered the fabled port. The foreigner remembered, as he strolled past the dock where a large cargo ship had just made port, the ship that had brought him to Fiore from the country of Midi. He stared nostalgically towards the ship, with a crew of rowdy sailors scrambling on deck working hard to prep the ship and its cargo. Hargeon had since been on the rise from previous disasters that had befallen the town before his arrival, and it was now certainly bolstering with trade. The white eyed traveler turned his gaze towards the newly renovated Guild Hall of Lamia Scale. From where he was he could see the standards with the Guild's crest flapping in the wind. It had been an entire year since he'd taken their mark upon his skin. He wondered if he'd see any familiar faces.
Shen slung his knapsack over his shoulder and made his way through the town. Upon arriving at the front gate, Shen looked up at the structure and hummed in awe. "We've come a long way since I've been gone. I hope they don't throw me out for being dirty." Shen placed one hand upon the gate, and pushed it open. The large steel door gave way, and he entered the keep. Shen wore a simple red Kimono that was open, revealing his chest and his hair was long and shaggy from traveling. To some he'd look like a vagabond.
Upon entering the reception Hall, Shen would marvel at the architecture. He stood alone in an enormous entry hall, with no clue of where to go or who to ask for help. He'd returned to an unfamiliar home, where he felt as though he was alone. It was a cold feeling, that he soon hoped to change with a warm welcome. The Martial Artist strolled deeper in to the keep, hoping to find someone to point him in the right direction.
Shen slung his knapsack over his shoulder and made his way through the town. Upon arriving at the front gate, Shen looked up at the structure and hummed in awe. "We've come a long way since I've been gone. I hope they don't throw me out for being dirty." Shen placed one hand upon the gate, and pushed it open. The large steel door gave way, and he entered the keep. Shen wore a simple red Kimono that was open, revealing his chest and his hair was long and shaggy from traveling. To some he'd look like a vagabond.
Upon entering the reception Hall, Shen would marvel at the architecture. He stood alone in an enormous entry hall, with no clue of where to go or who to ask for help. He'd returned to an unfamiliar home, where he felt as though he was alone. It was a cold feeling, that he soon hoped to change with a warm welcome. The Martial Artist strolled deeper in to the keep, hoping to find someone to point him in the right direction.