Traveling through Denocte felt a bit like walking into Narnia - not because it seemed particularly magical, or because he expected to run into any biblical allegories along the way, but because the farther he walked the more he expected to find old moth-eaten clothing and boxes of forgotten junk lining some interdimensional closet walls. The land itself seemed dormant; the red stallion's progress was marked by curious eyes not because he was an interloper, but because he was there at all.
Still, his swift and purposeful steps were enough to carry him into the heart of the kingdom unmolested. He was a political liaison, perhaps, or a merchant out to settle some boring economical dispute, and the faceless few he passed along the way likely remembered the blazing red of his coat rather than the unassuming presence of the blade at his heels. One such resident, with whom he had shared words long enough only to point him in the right direction, would remember him as most charming for a foreigner.
Now that he was here, his eyes darkened at what he saw. It had all the seeming of an echo, cavernous and fading away under the creeping corrosion of disuse. The pathways that seemed fit for many catered to few, and if a court should be a living thing then this one barely rattled out sickly gasps.
It looked like the half-empty shell of s mall just waiting for the clock to run out.
The tableau gave him pause, and for a moment he did not know quite where to go next.
Still, his swift and purposeful steps were enough to carry him into the heart of the kingdom unmolested. He was a political liaison, perhaps, or a merchant out to settle some boring economical dispute, and the faceless few he passed along the way likely remembered the blazing red of his coat rather than the unassuming presence of the blade at his heels. One such resident, with whom he had shared words long enough only to point him in the right direction, would remember him as most charming for a foreigner.
Now that he was here, his eyes darkened at what he saw. It had all the seeming of an echo, cavernous and fading away under the creeping corrosion of disuse. The pathways that seemed fit for many catered to few, and if a court should be a living thing then this one barely rattled out sickly gasps.
It looked like the half-empty shell of s mall just waiting for the clock to run out.
The tableau gave him pause, and for a moment he did not know quite where to go next.
Raymond.
"he's an outlaw loose and runnin'," came the whisper from each lip
"and he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip."
"he's an outlaw loose and runnin'," came the whisper from each lip
"and he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip."
@Isra
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
