Jump to content

The Procession of Glasgon, 2066

 Share


ncarr

Recommended Posts

“No,” the Emperor calmly spoke to one of his men, heeding the word of a new, old horenic-line sprawling out from the depths. 

Link to post
Share on other sites

The Lady Mayor of Saint Godwinsburg readied the council of Aldermen for the arrival of Lady Diane, ensuring every gutter was cleared and every urchin ushered out into the countryside. Banners sewn with the azure stag of Alba and the purple dragon of Alstion were hung from every eave and windowsill, whilst the local merchants were commissioned to produce worthy gifts to be bestowed unto the Duchess-to-be.

Link to post
Share on other sites

In a charter colony just ‘pon Agathor’s coast, nestled betwixt the shoulders of an envoy and his modish missus, that Lady Tiber which ink spoke of found herself disquieted. How hastily the word traveled. Her name laid plain before Azuras’s denizens, and soon she followed. By way of flesh, in presence greater than the words of a declaration claiming her of measure. To cross a sea, to come into charge she never thought herself to assume; the prospect made a marvel of her nerves. 
 

But her resolve remained without faltering. Whilst deckhands hared about a bustling harbor and shouts echoed through the salt-rich air, Diane’s mind welled with intent most salient. Thoughts of the procession to come overturned whatever dismay idled within. Her possessed worry found stationing elsewhere— upon the impression to be made, one fit of a Prince’s intended. “Might we browse the harbor’s wares?” Escaped her lips, eyes steady upon merchants near.

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

 Share

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×
×
  • Create New...