open to first 3 Location: Just outside of Aventia Notes: Open to other nightingales or legionnaires
The black robe and darkness spell settled around them. The woods were silent in the darkness of the morning, the birds nearly waking, but even they didn't have a song to sing. The Kossith had overtaken the city itself, constant patrols as they decided they would do this their way and control the region as they saw fit. Ships had sailed out of the port, and with the Kossith being just a stone's throw from the border, from the Aetherian's prismatic barrier, Hakon had simply been watching. "The legion only has so much history on the region of Itzcoatal. Most is buried in Amon-Sûl." He was a man of few words, but he had a point to make. "I would assume they have a natural immunity, or resistance, to the Blight. What it did to Iztcoatal remains to be seen. Have you noticed any patterns?"
Jon knew better then to let the quite settle him. It was like as soon he stepped out from behind the kitchen of the keep all this training, all his time as a blademaster came flooding back to him. His hand rested on the pommel of a sword that hadnât been picked up with cause in years. âOne would assume they have. Itâs difficult for the land to recover from the blight.â Jon knew this because his own presence would stop any growth of his little garden⊠it was a very barren garden. âThose ships strike me as odd. Itâs what youâd use to move troops⊠and it is leaving.â There was always a difference between civilian and military.



















