Moving onward from the swamp - and I'm very happy to have left it behind - I cross the creek that I had once stumbled on before. I do not see the stallions that were there when I once visited it. I continue past the creek, leaving the low banks behind me and continue to what seems like a new land. As I've been traveling I've noticed that each place I go has a certain... feel to it. Like perhaps they are ruled by different lords? Gods? I'm not sure how Novus is put together, but I know that've seen a good portion of it. Cliffs, fields, creeks, peaks... there's a lot of exploring that I've done, for certain, and I wonder if I will be able to keep it all together in my mind. Rostislav the Explorer, I'll be!

I find myself confronted with a river, luckily calm in the afternoon's sun. Birds sing and I think I even see fish swimming below the surface. It's wider than the creek and certainly deeper, and I wonder if fording it is going to be a safe option. I glance downriver and find it narrows, enough perhaps that traversing it won't be so horrible. It's a crazy idea but I think perhaps that a running start might help... Maybe. I start up a canter, then break into a full gallop as I approach the bank. A better leap than I could have hoped for gets me over half-way across. I crash into the water with the grace of a hippo and immediately start swimming across. The water is deep, but the current slow, and I reach the other bank soaked but unharmed. Sturdy hooves and legs drag my carcass from the water and I shake out like a wet dog.

Continuing forward I reach something new and strange. Similar to the Dusk Court I had stumbled upon with Weir, I find what must be another Court. A circular area marked by tall columns, a pool of water encircled with stone in the middle of it all. Small, mostly roof-less buildings crop up within the marked area, but I don't bother just now to explore them. Instead I stop at the pool of water and stare at my reflection in the strangely clear water. Maybe my reflection will talk back and tell me what where I am or where the relic is.

WC: 398
Tag: @Weir (if you want!), open

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool

While plenty of people question the wisdom of Roland Deschain's obsessive and eternal quest for the Dark Tower, few fail to understand the urge that drives him toward it. There is a certain transcendent magnetism woven into the fabric of monolithic structures and, as our primitive ancestors trembled in awe as lightning struck the mountaintops, so too did Martin feel the weight and significance of the Dawn Court even before he had a name to call it.

He stood before the Court's weathered stone walls, blue eyes tracing the inexorable upward creep of vines along its surface. His tail switched across his flanks at a slow, metronomic tempo.

There were ghosts inside that masonry, he thought.

A splash nearby interrupted the budding introspection before it could properly take root. Martin's head and attention snapped away from the castle as one, pausing only to weigh curiosity against caution before treading softly toward the source of the disturbance. This land had as yet offered him no reason to expect danger, but the unicorn was not about to walk straight down a dragon's throat like a lamb to slaughter.

What he found was definitely no dragon, but rather someone not entirely unlike himself, staring intensely into a puddle of water as though straining to wrest the (undoubtedly numerous) secrets from its depths. A stippled path of wet hoofprints and the damp-dark of his ruddy hide betrayed him.

Tilting his head quizzically, Martin intruded softly, "Pardon; do you know what this place is?"

And why, the young stallion offered only to himself, did he feel like he belonged here?

I lift my gaze from the pool, as I realize that I am no longer alone. I've been so lost in thought that I did not even hear the stallion's approach. I turn my crown and stare at him, curious if the question he presented was one because he was also lost, or if it was some sort of accusation regarding my presence. His tone did not betray his intention, and so I was forced to take it at face value. Feeling rather disagreeable, I answered as plainly as I could. "No." I give no indication of any emotion, and at first, I turn back toward the pool of water as if our bit of conversation is over. Is this a drinking pool? Watering hole type thing? Meh.. doesn't matter. I turn away from it, including my whole body in the process this time. I walk toward the stallion and eye him as I do. Cream colored, golden horn and hooves, with a turquoise tattoo to match his turquoise eyes. Were I more artistically inclined I might have commented that the pairing was quite fetching and he was a very handsome fellow. (But really, do you see me as the artistic type? Not so.) I stop when I am parallel to him, and glance over my shoulder. "But tell me, dear boy, do you?"

I continue on past, and walk over to a large column, some remnant of an ancient civilization I presume. It's huge around, like a large oak tree, and very tall. Made of some type of stone, I assume, for I know little of the construction of buildings. I rub my body up against it, scratching a subconscious itch, and it does not move, not an inch. There is no give like a tree, no life within it. I turn my eyes upon the stranger again, still leaning against the column. I don't prompt him for an answer, but simply wait, expecting that he will say something again even if it is not in direct reply.

WC: 339
Tag: @Martin Comments: He's feeling sassy :P or I am.. IDK

Rostislav

more than a drunken fool