The Golden Frame

Enoku nods to the guards as she approaches the towering stone keep. “Quiet day?” “Aye.” The red-haired, leather-clad guard replies. “Don’t suppose it’ll stay that way for too long.” “It never does.” The druid mumbles, continuing up the stairs and vanishing into the shadow of the threshold. The keep held the distinct smell of leather

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Rain weighted her lashes, the nethermancer blinking to bat away the fat droplets that fell from the Vale sky. Scents of salty sea air, sweat, exotic goods hidden within the dark recesses of sealed crates, and dampened wood that had seen the footsteps of countless travelers filled her senses, the splash and patter of the

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Bedclothes loosely pool around and drape over the petite blonde figure perched in the middle of the large four-poster bed, a small pout lighting on the elf’s lips as she steals an occasional glance at Enoku. She plucks at her right sleeve, teeth troubling the inside of her bottom lip, the woman sullen and silent.

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Light bleeds through the thick boughs, leaves and branches that craft the canopy crafting odd shapes and patterns on the ramp built into the trunk of the large tree. Bella’s right brow lofts as she inches towards the edge of the railing, peering over and down. A low whistle leaves her as her stomach knots

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