They wont sing for this forsaken
PAWN OF WAR
PAWN OF WAR
The Dusk Court... was not what he had expected. Well, not that he had expected much of anything, but still. Doing the rounds, seeing the faces... he supposed he expected more. More people. The Court was small, lots of flighty-folk, plenty of his own kind, and a few who had neither horn or wings. He was told about some goddess, Waspera? Sounded like a pain in the arse (heh), but well, he wasn't inclined to be sending along any prayers to her anytime soon.
What he was definitely not expecting, though, was the sheer lack of drink. There was plenty of water, for sure, even some fancy punches, but anything stronger... With his flask running low, and himself painfully sober, the marbled stallion walked through the halls of the Dusk Court citadel. It was a pretty castle, he supposed, but as far as castles went it was kind of... bland. Too much stone, not enough cloth on the walls, and why the hell weren't there torches everywhere?
Did they want assassinations? Because that's how you got assassinations. Well, that and a lot more shit, but he couldn't bother following that line of thought. He was on a mission.
Well, he had been on a mission. A fruitless one, pun not intended. No matter how low he looked, he couldn't find a way into the depths of the castle and hopefully to the cellars. Frustrated, still sober, and all too annoyed, the ragged stallion muttered curses under his breath as he walked back through the halls, retracing his steps back out. The only good thing so far about this little trek, was that Vertias had been quiet at his side. Unusual, for the sword, but he was enjoying the silence.
He wasn't paying attention, though, as he rounded a corner and felt something-or someone- solid hit him, and he jerked to a stop, a grunt escaping him as he blinked, and focused his eyes on the person that had bumped into him.
"Y'should watch where you're going."
'You could follow the same advice.'
Cue the sword's pinprickling. Ugh.
