Post by Willa Wren on Oct 23, 2024 6:21:29 GMT -5
[ Made for Sylas Llewellyn ]
Prince Sylas’ courier was quiet and cordial, sticking to the job he’d been given with stiff professionalism. Wren had armed herself before stepping through his door, slipping her mace into its sheath on her back. She had a dagger in her boot, another at her hip, and lastly brass knuckles tucked against her bosom.
With wild, wind-blown hair, the warrior stepped from her crude hut in Cambria and into the polished palace of Arynn Frey. Though the new environment was quiet and calm, she felt all her senses heighten, her eyes jumping around her to get her bearings.
The courier politely gestured for her to follow, and promptly took her to Sylas.
