Well darn!
As a side-note, I've finished my rough draft for the Trontest.
COMMENTS APPRECIATED
=
The night was velvety soft in its cushioned glow, an onyx stone, waiting to be looked upon, in its beauty; a violet-black sky, strewn across with diamond constellations, chasing the shadows into the eerie corners of the bulwark, where the sentries marched valiantly, saving grace in their phantasmagoria.
A man approached the entrance to the ancient fortress, wearily dodging the protruding trees and shrubbery of the courtyard and antechamber. Upon reaching the door, he opened it, slow, steady, and careful, and further permeated the rounded darkness of the keep, maintaining the silence in his soundless steps upon the terrazzo.
His long, plain black robe fell barely to his ankles, and did not flutter during his flight to the master-bedroom, concealing the blood-stained stiletto from the majesty of what little light floated in through the window, and wrapping itself like a daemonic cocoon, its gossamer fibers glinting, a great abyss, devouring the moonlight.
Past the taffeta, the profligate paraphernalia, and further past the obsolescent artworks which all adorned the narrowing walls, into the winding stairwell, ever closer to that prehensile beast, the fair-weathered quixote of betrayal.
The intruder arrived at the first landing, observing its opaqueness, and its obscurities, with scrutiny. Stealing farther in, an ornate altar was recognizable, candles trailing smoke from the night's rituals. Once finished with his meticulous reconnaissance, the whirlpool of blackness moved on, farther up the tower, always nearing his target.
The black speck atop the berfrei moved with surreptitious strides, relishing in the daemonic glory of the eerily extravagant night, closing in upon the door like a roc upon some hapless animal. Once reaching the rather chaste door, he, again, cautiously slid the door open, slowly sweeping it into the hall.
06-Apr-2008 19:50:44
