[@The Emperors Blade][@TheDarkTemplar][@LiverisGood]

It was dark. It was late. It was long after dinner, and even the bars had settled down in their ruckus. It was in this time, obscured by darkness, that a cloaked figure on horseback rode in slowly from the city's main gate. Hood drawn up, it could have been a priest, a poor man, a noble, a traveler who had met with delays, or some weary soldier. The clops of hooves hardly went noticed as their rhythm lulled along in the background. 

As the figure approached the castle, the two guards at the entrance to the main courtyard grew suspicious, as was their duty, and sought to bar the stranger's entry. 

"I'm sorry my lord, but the castle is closed for the evening."

"Identify yourself good sir."

The horse came to a halt, and only then as their eyes could focus on it up close, did the guardsmen see that the horse's eyes were pale white. Wounds covered the mare's body, long emptied of blood. It's jaw hung open bearing white teeth and bone against a useless bit and bridle. It was already dead.

A fear hit the two men, locking their legs and silencing their voices in their throats. In magical terror, they could only stand and witness as the mounted figure then proceeded to walk past them into the courtyard, heading down the middle road until the castle entrance itself. 

Kicking his boots out of the stirrups, Damien dismounted in a swift, smooth motion and began walking wearily up the steps. The area was uncannily vacant, but he was heading toward Teagan and Tabetha. He carried a sword at his waist and had on a plainly styled breastplate, but was otherwise clad only in dark grey cloth. The Templar order symbols decorated the clasps for his cloak on either shoulder. Long, black hair was hanging out from either side of his hood, but his face was in shadow. 

The horse, its use finally ended, collapsed with a sigh into a pile of flesh and bones on the ground behind him. Damien Mithias Varomere had returned to the kingdom of man once more.