S
Seiji
Guest
Original poster
Rain still bothered and humbled Greymalkin, even after all of these years.
Grey had been raised in the desert. He could still remember vague, fuzzy images of running along the hot rocky outcroppings at the edge of the desert with his family and friends, before the Naga raiders had come. He was used to the heat, to the dry. He was used to the harshness of incivility, the coarse roughness of sand and hard life.
Rain, green, roads, cities, mountains. Even after all of these years, it still left him feeling uneasy. He had gotten used to cities and the near-endless number of trees. Mountains, he felt he could never abide. But the rain? Every time it rained, he couldn't help but feel humbled by the gods, and be reminded by his goddess. The rain was not her weeping out of sadness, but of divine righteousness.
The note Grey had found, he was sure had been meant for him. He had only recently arrived in the highly urbanized, highly civilized Dosgear. That morning, to be exact. He was hidden underneath his heavy maroon cloak, his rough, handsome features hidden beneath flowing waves of black hair that clung to his face. His beard was thick, but close; he had gone without shaving for only a few days. He had meant to shave sometime today, after finding an inn of some kind to rest in. He was tired, sorely tired, but he felt his mission drive him.
Finding this note was part of his mission, he knew. In a moment of stillness, the rain stopping and the wind picking up, he saw the wet paper flap by him quickly. It struck past his face as quick as lightning, but his reflexes were superb, and he caught it in the air. He had torn it some in his quick, tight grasp, but it was still legible.
It told him to go to the Tower. The Glorious Tower. Looking up, he could see the lone spire at the center of the city, and he knew that was his destination.
There was already a small gathering of people being addressed by a man in ornate green and gold robes. There were all sorts there; a kobold, an orc, a dragonkind and minotaur. What kind of gathering is this, Grey could not help but wonder.
More showed up, and they all flowed into the Tower doors. Grey, who had been hiding in plain sight at the farthest reaching of the open court yard, darted forward, slipping past the doors only a heartbeat before they shut. The edge of his frayed cloak was stuck in the door and, with an irritated grunt, he ripped it away.
He followed the gathering down the hall as far in the back as he could, pausing only to bow deeply to the statue in honour of his goddess, Celia Veira. Thick dust shrouded her beautiful facial features, but the sword she held up still seemed to shine. He touched his forehead, his lips, then settled his hand open-palmed above his heart and chest.
Grey followed the procession further into the Tower and, stepping into a rather large common room, Grey knew he would no longer be able to completely hide his presence, if he had at all. He stepped to the side, keeping his back to the wall, and edged his way around the gathering of living beings. He eyed the dragon curiously, knowing that it had probably known he had been following them. He thought the same of the minotaur.
But he hadn't been the only one to silently sneak upon the group.
"Interesting trick," he said in a deep, melodious voice. "Looks real, and smells good."
Grey had been raised in the desert. He could still remember vague, fuzzy images of running along the hot rocky outcroppings at the edge of the desert with his family and friends, before the Naga raiders had come. He was used to the heat, to the dry. He was used to the harshness of incivility, the coarse roughness of sand and hard life.
Rain, green, roads, cities, mountains. Even after all of these years, it still left him feeling uneasy. He had gotten used to cities and the near-endless number of trees. Mountains, he felt he could never abide. But the rain? Every time it rained, he couldn't help but feel humbled by the gods, and be reminded by his goddess. The rain was not her weeping out of sadness, but of divine righteousness.
The note Grey had found, he was sure had been meant for him. He had only recently arrived in the highly urbanized, highly civilized Dosgear. That morning, to be exact. He was hidden underneath his heavy maroon cloak, his rough, handsome features hidden beneath flowing waves of black hair that clung to his face. His beard was thick, but close; he had gone without shaving for only a few days. He had meant to shave sometime today, after finding an inn of some kind to rest in. He was tired, sorely tired, but he felt his mission drive him.
Finding this note was part of his mission, he knew. In a moment of stillness, the rain stopping and the wind picking up, he saw the wet paper flap by him quickly. It struck past his face as quick as lightning, but his reflexes were superb, and he caught it in the air. He had torn it some in his quick, tight grasp, but it was still legible.
It told him to go to the Tower. The Glorious Tower. Looking up, he could see the lone spire at the center of the city, and he knew that was his destination.
There was already a small gathering of people being addressed by a man in ornate green and gold robes. There were all sorts there; a kobold, an orc, a dragonkind and minotaur. What kind of gathering is this, Grey could not help but wonder.
More showed up, and they all flowed into the Tower doors. Grey, who had been hiding in plain sight at the farthest reaching of the open court yard, darted forward, slipping past the doors only a heartbeat before they shut. The edge of his frayed cloak was stuck in the door and, with an irritated grunt, he ripped it away.
He followed the gathering down the hall as far in the back as he could, pausing only to bow deeply to the statue in honour of his goddess, Celia Veira. Thick dust shrouded her beautiful facial features, but the sword she held up still seemed to shine. He touched his forehead, his lips, then settled his hand open-palmed above his heart and chest.
Grey followed the procession further into the Tower and, stepping into a rather large common room, Grey knew he would no longer be able to completely hide his presence, if he had at all. He stepped to the side, keeping his back to the wall, and edged his way around the gathering of living beings. He eyed the dragon curiously, knowing that it had probably known he had been following them. He thought the same of the minotaur.
But he hadn't been the only one to silently sneak upon the group.
"Interesting trick," he said in a deep, melodious voice. "Looks real, and smells good."