"There is bliss even in the darkest corners of the world, a witch was she the black mage spoke of the great myth, a curse she never seen before. It was heresy to her but to someone like me... its a work of true art and color. Its not something that should be understood because it is something that should be realized. The world has its unique wonders dear children, wonders that not even you are aware and I'm one of them."
"Dragons, Faeries, Gods, Angels, Demons are nothing but mere props till an actor drags them to the spotlight. Even the legendary Lich of the northeast serves no other purpose but to collect dust but do tell me this... when the time comes again? Are you all prepared to face the reality? Is it inevitable the corrosive skull may rise and lay waste to the lands again? Its a mystery that will be left unanswered...."
"Inevitable, there is no stopping the fate of the dragons, the Oath that robbed the world of the faeries, the destiny to which demons may walk and be born only to be slain time and time again, angels will abandon prayers and Gods will be reduced to sand. Do not end, live to see the orchestra written beforehand.... little one."
The color of the orange flames paint the skies, as clouds were littered around like floating lifeless silhouettes. The ocean's breeze fills the air of Hargeon with the stench of sea water, the horizon is blessed as the fishermen sail towards the bay, returning with the fruits of their labor. Nostalgic it be for those who seen the sun first hand, a sight for sore eyes and a scenery that will come time and time again. The seagulls rise and flew high, towards the setting sun, gliding to the horizon, where the winds will take them nobody knows, pray safe for their journey be told.
In a small old pub made of marble stone and clay, sailors would gather around and tell tales of their stories and the events that had happened today. The vixen on the counter, well versed and skilled with what she does best, to serve and to entertain with the use of tricks, though not an actress, she's a classic favorite of those who met her and was admired by her customers. Laughter and gossip filled the pub, a few drunkards collapsed on the wooden floors, as men drove on with their silly jokes, stories new or old.
The bartender removes her braid, letting lose the one thing she possessed so dearly with pride, her long blonde hair. Eyes glared at such a fine young figure, commenting that she should let her hair loose all the time. Easily she was flattered but its a must for her to tie her hair, for that she wishes to act like some gentleman while holding on to her nature as a woman.
The chime bell flicks, alerting a few that a door be opened, a new customer! Who could this one be now?
