Arrivals and Impressions
Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 2:06 pmSpring had come to Myrken Wood. With it, there was a real hope for peace and prosperity. Snow had melted. Flowers were starting to bloom. Another winter was over. Myrken prevailed? Perhaps. At the very least, Myrken survived. Here, that was never taken for granted.
For the young Graf Josef Reinstadler, the dawning of Spring meant that the time for stealth and planning was over. He had been well trained in both but the former chafed in an all too familiar way. This was finally the time for action, finally time to leave the relative safety of Razasan. There had been two other steps that, once taken, could not be turned back from, but this was the most dramatic by far, and a sense of drama was oh so important for the nobleman.
Truly, one look at the gilded and spacious coach which carried Josef and his retinue would show as much. One look at the expensive and well-bred horses that pulled the coach would only confirm it. He meant to make a mark. He NEEDED to make a mark, and quickly. The two documents with their seals from the royal court would go a long way towards that first impression, of course. It would be his personality and wealth that would carry him past that. In a world where the spoken word was often more powerful than the written one, image accounted for so very much.
"The wall impresses." He spoke this idly to the man opposite him in the coach. The escorts from the Capital had left them not long before and they were finally passing into town now. Josef, a man in his early to mid twenties with blonde hair and blue eyes and a hunter's build, seemed extremely comfortable in his own skin, no matter the fact that he was now very far from home. He continued. "...less so as a structure. No, it impresses as an idea, an ideal. Calomel apparently no longer has the means for such miracles. He still has the will for them. It is enough. He will find the means where necessary, when desired. If all of our reports are accurate, this wall was built as much by his heart as by any dark sorcery." A sneer for the idea of such black magic and a snort for Cinnabar's heart. "Amateur."
A hand waved off such thoughts. There would be time for that and more soon enough. "To the house, then. There are some things I would see before we do what we have come here for." The carriage left the wall behind and headed towards a more privileged section of town.
For the young Graf Josef Reinstadler, the dawning of Spring meant that the time for stealth and planning was over. He had been well trained in both but the former chafed in an all too familiar way. This was finally the time for action, finally time to leave the relative safety of Razasan. There had been two other steps that, once taken, could not be turned back from, but this was the most dramatic by far, and a sense of drama was oh so important for the nobleman.
Truly, one look at the gilded and spacious coach which carried Josef and his retinue would show as much. One look at the expensive and well-bred horses that pulled the coach would only confirm it. He meant to make a mark. He NEEDED to make a mark, and quickly. The two documents with their seals from the royal court would go a long way towards that first impression, of course. It would be his personality and wealth that would carry him past that. In a world where the spoken word was often more powerful than the written one, image accounted for so very much.
"The wall impresses." He spoke this idly to the man opposite him in the coach. The escorts from the Capital had left them not long before and they were finally passing into town now. Josef, a man in his early to mid twenties with blonde hair and blue eyes and a hunter's build, seemed extremely comfortable in his own skin, no matter the fact that he was now very far from home. He continued. "...less so as a structure. No, it impresses as an idea, an ideal. Calomel apparently no longer has the means for such miracles. He still has the will for them. It is enough. He will find the means where necessary, when desired. If all of our reports are accurate, this wall was built as much by his heart as by any dark sorcery." A sneer for the idea of such black magic and a snort for Cinnabar's heart. "Amateur."
A hand waved off such thoughts. There would be time for that and more soon enough. "To the house, then. There are some things I would see before we do what we have come here for." The carriage left the wall behind and headed towards a more privileged section of town.