![]() Its rearing golden horse danced to life, sparked by the reflection of the night lanterns. Even from this distance, in the early-morning dark, she could see a black Balladairan standard flapping above the docks. The city where Touraine was born.Īt a sudden gust, Touraine pulled her black military coat tighter about her body and hunched small over the railing of the ship as it approached land. City of rebellious, uncivilized god-worshippers. City of the golden sun and fruits Touraine couldn’t remember tasting. City of marble and sandstone, of olives and clay. ![]() ![]() A sandstorm brewed dark and menacing against the Qazāli horizon as Lieutenant Touraine and the rest of the Balladairan Colonial Brigade sailed into El-Wast, capital city of Qazāl, foremost of Balladaire’s southern colonies.Įl-Wast. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |