Roland, dressed head to toe like a gunslinger of old, doesn't know why that is, but it comforts him. He can picture how things would have looked, back when there was life here. The forges would have rung with the sounds of metal being hammered into shape. The crack of guns in the distance as young men put to practice what they'd learned. Even the snow makes him think of fire, and old men reading aloud to a group of eager children.
As he walks through the ruin, his footprints leave a coating of sand on the snow-- and he doesn't feel the cold. The feeling of a desert is within him, and he isn't sure what it means of if it can be escaped.
He comes to the main door of the keep-- one he expects to lead to the great hall. Rather than open it he knocks. He's learned the places in the Horizon can be very personal, and he'll respect that. His voice is loud and he throws it out with the intent to carry far.
"Hile! Roland comes a-calling! If it please you, I'd enter your halls and palaver with you."
There ought to be more than just Roland. A name isn't enough for a man-- but while he's met people to share his name, none have shed more light on what else he ought to know and doesn't.
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Roland, dressed head to toe like a gunslinger of old, doesn't know why that is, but it comforts him. He can picture how things would have looked, back when there was life here. The forges would have rung with the sounds of metal being hammered into shape. The crack of guns in the distance as young men put to practice what they'd learned. Even the snow makes him think of fire, and old men reading aloud to a group of eager children.
As he walks through the ruin, his footprints leave a coating of sand on the snow-- and he doesn't feel the cold. The feeling of a desert is within him, and he isn't sure what it means of if it can be escaped.
He comes to the main door of the keep-- one he expects to lead to the great hall. Rather than open it he knocks. He's learned the places in the Horizon can be very personal, and he'll respect that. His voice is loud and he throws it out with the intent to carry far.
"Hile! Roland comes a-calling! If it please you, I'd enter your halls and palaver with you."
There ought to be more than just Roland. A name isn't enough for a man-- but while he's met people to share his name, none have shed more light on what else he ought to know and doesn't.