[Centre][H2][color=bc8dbf]Lord and lady Coswain[/color][/H2][/Centre]
[Centre][H3][color=bc8dbf]About Dawn Haven[/color][/H3][/Centre]


Lord Coswain walked across the mud, he pulled his leather sword belt right about his  waist tightly, an old soldier's habit was to keep his weapons tight and close. He walked across seeing the light Wells of buildings and torches that lit up the gloom, the moon hung lazily in the sky casting a light that reflected off the lake illuminating the forests and mountains. It was beautiful though he did miss the sun. It had not risen for months, months of darkness, months of cold. 

[color=6ecff6]“Exile.. is hard”[/color] He kicked a rock across the path with his boot and walked on, passing a stall selling some knives claimed to be castle forged steel, but looked to be more iron than steel. He shook his head and moved on, having discarded them as typical market stock. 

The construction sites were quiet and he honestly wondered what on earth his role would be here. He was sworn to a Princess who did not want his service, he was sworn to a king who exiled him. He was sworn to serve, he was sworn to so many things. 

He needed ink, he could least draw perhaps and work out how plans, help work on maybe the Eye of Beholder. they seemed to be uncaring major construction work or preparing for it, digging, stone, timbers… major job. paper, yes, paper, this lake looked a rather good spot to sit and draw for a few hours. Perhaps the post office might stock such supplies and materials. 

He pushed into the post office, he thought it was the post office, it was tall, a several story structure that looked rather much like a tower that matched the description a passer by had given him anyway. He passed a woman who raised his hairs on the back of neck  who seemed to have more grace than a human. 

The woman had been dressed in dark clothes with very pale skin if his view of her hand was correct, hooded, Cloaked and clad in furs. She gave him an automatic urge to move his hand to hilt but made no such movement. The woman screamed danger?  His gut feeling said it was dangerous, and he never ignored his gut feelings. [color=6ecff6]“Postmaster? you around?”[/color] He was curious about the whole thing, people said the postmaster was a monster, a man, a bird.. many rumours but what was the truth?

[color=6ecff6]“You stock ink, paper? Thick papers? Suitable for drawing? Perhaps a artsists book... parchment book? Somthing for dawing?”[/color] He called out in his capital Lunarian accent, if he was short on work, and he was going to be exiled. He could work on at least one skill and use his time to achieve something. His duties, he would protect Octavia when the time came, she did not want him but he would not renege on orders. He had been ordered to serve. He would serve. 




[@The Muse][@amorphical]