She had wandered for several weeks when she encountered an entirely new thing. She had heard of them, both from Braile as well as from her teacher when she had first awoken. The fabled Ronan, friend of Ventari who had planted the Pale Tree back before the Sylvari race had awoken, was of their kind. Humans. She had been sleeping under some brush by the wayside when she was awoken by voices in an accent# she could not recognise at all. She could, however, understand their language. It was similar to the one taught to all sylvari, though some words were different and the accent behind it made it nigh impenetrable. Caught up in her thoughts, they were outside her range of hearing before she was aware of the time passing. Hurriedly packing her few belongings, she made to follow them while attempting to keep out of sight. While her curiousity had gotten the better of her trepidation, she still had some sense. They were quite clearly armed, carrying a broad-bladed sword each and garbed in what she assumed to be their version of armour. Each carried a long metal tube on their back with a wooden decoration on the end. Guessing them to be walking sticks, she could only wonder why they weren’t using them. One had a long ‘tendril’ of black strands cascading from the top of its head, while the other had none at all. Both had skin the colour of palm bark and green-brown eyes circled with white. They seemed ill at ease in the jungle but both were also attempting to hide it from the other. The bald one was slightly taller than the other, as well as having creases in the skin on its face. She had followed their winding path along the jungle road without much difficulty. After her ’adventures’ with Braile, she knew a thing or two about patroling, and these two were more focused on talking to the other or hiding their trepidation than actually observing the jungle around them, which might account for why she had gone undetected for several hours, even when the brush along the road thinned considerably. Luckily for them, it had been a quiet day in the jungle, so nothing had interferred with their patrol.
As Siriin had started to wonder whether she should continue following or go her own way, they turned a bend, arriving at a junction in the road. Sitting in the corner of that junction was a structure of some sort. Born and bred in the Grove, she had seen nothing like it. The walls were carved stone standing several times her height, and the gate was closed with a 2 great wooden doors reinforced with iron. One section of the wall was clearly unfinished, as wooden scaffolding crowded around it and yet more humans worked at fitting and securing a great mound of stones into the wall. Humans carrying the metallic walking sticks stood on top of the wall, looking out over the jungle. Upon seeing the fortress, both of the humans she had been following relaxed immensely and increased the pace of their step. At their approach, another human on top of the gate shouted at them, and when the reply came, the doors of the gate slowly opened, allowing the patrol entry inside.