The Night Court was as foreign as they came.
Kaladin entered through the main gates with deliberate precision, eyes flickering from one side of the massive courtyard to another, in constant analysis and judgment of his new situation. The air held the crisp, cool touch of night here, the temperature lower then he'd expected, seemingly radiating from the frigid cobblestones beneath his hooves. The court held a haunting quality, like a graveyard at midnight or forest at the full moon, playing into myths of darkness and the horrors it wrought. The world around him was desolate and cold, broken only by the weak flicker of torches placed upon the walls - near enough for comfort, but far enough not to cast too much light.
Discomfort creeped up his spine, soft at first but growing stronger with every step deeper into the castle grounds. He was a stranger here, and he would soon know it - the few mortals he set eyes on would give him odd looks, their faces stony and unforgiving to strangers. Doing his best to ignore the alien sensation, Kaladin set his sights on the towering fortress before him - a marvel of stonework and times gone by, bleak weatherworn walls a glaring a challenge at all who dared enter their confines. Under their stare, Kaladin found himself thinking of his own home - the quiet, subtle decorations in the architecture, the crowded courtyard and massive library. The bright, cheerful greenery and carefully tended gardens - it was all missing here. He shivered - he planned to get the hell out of here as fast as he could - as soon as he had gained all the knowledge he needed about the relic.
Yet, his curiosity was stirred here as well, a need to gain knowledge of the foreign lands in order to use them to his advantage. He found it odd, how mortals could build all four Courts, and yet one could so different from the other. He wondered if they reflected the values of the individuals that inhabited their given fortresses, or if it was simply a need to resist the elements that had driven the architects. Whatever the case, the person responsible for building Denocte's principal keep had done an abhorrent job in the artist field. Despite the ancient quality of the grey fortress, it seemed to be only a skeleton, as if begging to be built upon to gain the attraction of flesh.
It was sudden. Breaking out of his bitter musings, Kaladin's eyes flickered to the side. Sure enough, he recognized a familiar hide ambling across the courtyard path, massive hooves emitting a gentle clattering on the stonework. Camdis, the brute dressed in crimson and earth tones, with eyes like thunder. Kaladin sighed, and it was a sigh of relief - he had found a guide, and perhaps a friendly face amongst the glaring cold of the Night Court. He broke into a trot, nearing the stallion, customary greeting completely forgotten in mitigation. "Camdis," Kaladin's eyes glimmered in the torchlight. "I have never been more glad to see a mort-" he caught his error halfway through, and prayed that his companion had not. "Friendly face."
@Camdis kaladin actually likes someone progress had been made
Kaladin entered through the main gates with deliberate precision, eyes flickering from one side of the massive courtyard to another, in constant analysis and judgment of his new situation. The air held the crisp, cool touch of night here, the temperature lower then he'd expected, seemingly radiating from the frigid cobblestones beneath his hooves. The court held a haunting quality, like a graveyard at midnight or forest at the full moon, playing into myths of darkness and the horrors it wrought. The world around him was desolate and cold, broken only by the weak flicker of torches placed upon the walls - near enough for comfort, but far enough not to cast too much light.
Discomfort creeped up his spine, soft at first but growing stronger with every step deeper into the castle grounds. He was a stranger here, and he would soon know it - the few mortals he set eyes on would give him odd looks, their faces stony and unforgiving to strangers. Doing his best to ignore the alien sensation, Kaladin set his sights on the towering fortress before him - a marvel of stonework and times gone by, bleak weatherworn walls a glaring a challenge at all who dared enter their confines. Under their stare, Kaladin found himself thinking of his own home - the quiet, subtle decorations in the architecture, the crowded courtyard and massive library. The bright, cheerful greenery and carefully tended gardens - it was all missing here. He shivered - he planned to get the hell out of here as fast as he could - as soon as he had gained all the knowledge he needed about the relic.
Yet, his curiosity was stirred here as well, a need to gain knowledge of the foreign lands in order to use them to his advantage. He found it odd, how mortals could build all four Courts, and yet one could so different from the other. He wondered if they reflected the values of the individuals that inhabited their given fortresses, or if it was simply a need to resist the elements that had driven the architects. Whatever the case, the person responsible for building Denocte's principal keep had done an abhorrent job in the artist field. Despite the ancient quality of the grey fortress, it seemed to be only a skeleton, as if begging to be built upon to gain the attraction of flesh.
It was sudden. Breaking out of his bitter musings, Kaladin's eyes flickered to the side. Sure enough, he recognized a familiar hide ambling across the courtyard path, massive hooves emitting a gentle clattering on the stonework. Camdis, the brute dressed in crimson and earth tones, with eyes like thunder. Kaladin sighed, and it was a sigh of relief - he had found a guide, and perhaps a friendly face amongst the glaring cold of the Night Court. He broke into a trot, nearing the stallion, customary greeting completely forgotten in mitigation. "Camdis," Kaladin's eyes glimmered in the torchlight. "I have never been more glad to see a mort-" he caught his error halfway through, and prayed that his companion had not. "Friendly face."
@Camdis kaladin actually likes someone progress had been made
