Snippet #2196919

It felt rather strange to be outside in the evening air again. It was a little cold. Winter had to be drawing in. Maeve guessed she was rather losing touch with the time of year. As she rarely ever stepped outside, it was not unsurprising. A wool cloak wrapped around her shoulders, the hood pulled up, she slipped through the crowds of shoppers and revellers, hiding her distaste. She knew that this situation was not the fault of the people of the capital...but it was undeniably galling, seeing these individuals enjoying themselves when she knew where the Magefire that allowed them to do so came from. It was the electricity of dire suffering.

It was no trouble leaving the palace. The staff in general treated her as if she were little more than a nuisance, and it extended to the guard. They left her be for the most part. Few thought that the rider posed anything of a threat. Without her dragon she was all but powerless, and they guessed she would not attempt any rebellion whilst her companion was held. For many years, that had most certainly been true. Things were changing however. She needed to get the news out there, though she struggled to think how she would without sounding like one of the mad doomsday preachers that stood on crates in the temple district.

Clunk. Maeve's progress was drawn to a sudden halt as the metal expanse of a golem drew into her path. It was taller than the woman, and considerably wider, covered in an armoured carapace of some sort of coppery metal...though the rider fancied that if anyone were to attack it they would discover it far less pliable than copper. It moved into her path, the immobile mask that stood for a face tilting slightly downwards to regard her. It had an unnerving quality, something like a carnival mask, but plain, the mouth drawn into an expression of blank neutrality, the eyes empty.

It drew a large hand up to signal for her to move to one side. On reflection Maeve was not certain why she was still standing there. Possibly it was because she seldom had such close contact with the things and she was intimidated, or possibly it was the most pathetic act of rebellion she'd ever attempted, she was not certain.