Her approach was like a whisper, a quiet presence gliding across the cracked & eroded stone of the city, she relished in the shadows cast by the abyssal canopy above & felt soothed by the night, always having found comfort in the dark. The throngs of denizens lined the streets, she observed all manner of artisans peddling their dubious wares & eager merchants spinning great tales to impose value & mysticism upon what were certainly mere objects of no importance & entirely ordinary.
This city was alive, yet undoubtedly she sensed that, beneath the swirling plumes of acrid incense, the familiar perfume of death lingered heavy in the air, seeking her ( as it always did ) & gently turning her gaze away from the myriad of colored silks & towards what she could only assume was the decorated form of a commander, swiftly cutting through the crowd & flanked by the perverse flesh of the undying. Hel’s body contorts to face the encroaching forces, enveloping herself in an aura of ancient & lethal magics, undaunted by the display.
❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 me, not unless I will it so. It appears my stay has expired, grant me leave of this kingdom & no harm shall befall the inhabitants. ❜
@ 𝐃𝐘𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄