Bargain
Oct 29, 2012 13:02:23 GMT -6
Post by Admin on Oct 29, 2012 13:02:23 GMT -6
The old cathedral stands as it ever has - at least to the eyes of the unsuspecting. The night sky is clear for once, silvery starlight and moonlight making the white snow appear to glow and the shadows seem all the deeper.
Outside the wrought iron fence is an odd couple. One stands tall, almost regal, with clothing of snowy white and bright gold. His head is uncovered, letting a fall of hair wreath his face and shoulders like a dark halo. He is unarmed, but looks calm and confident.
His companion is hunched over, tugging at the edge of a dark cloak to wrap it ever tighter around him. His head and face are covered, hidden by thick cloth and shadow. A rusted, filthy sword is belted to his waist, sheathed for now. He flinches at small noises, and while he keeps distance between himself and the regal being, he seems to want to stay as close to him as possible.
"Are you certain this is it?" the second rasps, his voice hoarse and oddly wet. "It looks like no one has lived here for years."
"One must be certain of nothing," the first replies, his deep voice soothing. "But my sources tell me this is certainly the place, and he will be inside. He probably already knows we are here."
The second flinches from the shadow of a bush blowing lazily in the chill breeze. "Then why are we waiting?"
"Patience, my friend," the first says, and settles to a waiting stance outside the gate. "It is rude to enter into someone's home without invitation."
Outside the wrought iron fence is an odd couple. One stands tall, almost regal, with clothing of snowy white and bright gold. His head is uncovered, letting a fall of hair wreath his face and shoulders like a dark halo. He is unarmed, but looks calm and confident.
His companion is hunched over, tugging at the edge of a dark cloak to wrap it ever tighter around him. His head and face are covered, hidden by thick cloth and shadow. A rusted, filthy sword is belted to his waist, sheathed for now. He flinches at small noises, and while he keeps distance between himself and the regal being, he seems to want to stay as close to him as possible.
"Are you certain this is it?" the second rasps, his voice hoarse and oddly wet. "It looks like no one has lived here for years."
"One must be certain of nothing," the first replies, his deep voice soothing. "But my sources tell me this is certainly the place, and he will be inside. He probably already knows we are here."
The second flinches from the shadow of a bush blowing lazily in the chill breeze. "Then why are we waiting?"
"Patience, my friend," the first says, and settles to a waiting stance outside the gate. "It is rude to enter into someone's home without invitation."