From the thick wall of trees and bushes at the outer edge of the forest came a tall and slender figure. From afar, it looked much like a tree trunk with a black ball on its back going for a walk, but as it came closer to the outer walls, it became clear that this was a person wearing a tattered, dirty brown cloak. His pace was hasty, yet slow. Quite contradictory, but understandable, considering he's carrying a cauldron on his back.
"Humans. Cities. My city. Home." Maulnar mumbled to himself as he approached the familiar walls, the very same walls he waved goodbye on the first day of his journey into Anthroland. They have bested the ravages of time well, in his opinion, it has changed very little since he last saw it. Only a few discolouration, scorch marks and a hole that's been fixed.
Maulnar chuckled, he knew very well why those were there. It was every alchemist's basic exam; creating a mixture to increase the longevity of walls, furniture or metals. A small coating to prevent corrosion on the objects, a very simple task, but if you're not careful, things like that may happen. Although Maulnar was surprised someone messed it up hard enough to actually corrode the wall, rather than prevent that from happening.
"Halt! Who goes there!" A voice called out to him, interrupting Maulnar's memories and thoughts; it sounded rough, hateful and firm. Up on the wall stood a guard, looking down at the old man with distrust, for his face and body were hidden entirely. Yet he wasn't afraid, since the hooded figure was alone. Maulnar looked up at the guard, the last rays of today's sunlight reflected off his well-polished helm and towards Maulnar. From his position, Maulnar could see a young man in guard uniform, another man who cared little for education, most likely. "Youth." Maulnar thought, very annoyed.
"Maulnar Davion Evermead!" Maulnar yelled back in an old, raspy voice and took off the hood from his head, showing the guard his face. The strain from shouting hurt in his throat, he never shouted much, for that attracts too much attention. He coughed as he awaited an answer.
The young man had never heard the name before, as expected of course. If he didn't go to school, he probably never caught the names Marlon or Maulnar, and since both of them left civilization before his birth, he couldn't have actually seen them.
"Very well, old man, you may come in. Beware, for we are at war." He said, then allowed entrance to Maulnar. The gates opened a little, just enough for Maulnar to slip through.
There he stood, amidst his kind once more. Humans, furless bipedal creatures, were walking about, doing their duties. Most of them were wearing metal plates around their body, protecting them from harm. Neatly grouped together into divisions, shouted at by lone figures standing before them, wearing more decorative metal. Armies were ready to fight again, though would have to wait 'til dawn.
At forges, muscular men were banging their hammer on glowing-hot pieces of metal, both creating and repairing it. Their faces were red, their bodies were covered in sweat, and their arms were throbbing from the blood flowing through them. Those men could make great fighters, had they had the military training of the weaker men for whom they were creating armour.
Part of him welcomed the noise found in every human city, but part of him disliked it, for he had grown used to calm and serenity in Anthros villages. The structure of human civilization was also a little strange, looking back at it.
"Now, for that workshop." Maulnar said to himself and walked towards where he remembered the workshop to be.
