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


When the man…bird…blight born hybrid came down Lord Coswain schooled himself to an neutral expression he tended to adopt when dealing with senior command and others of the sort. He did not like blightborn, he had seen men ripped apart, killed and personally slain in single combat. Still they were stretched and one day Lunaris would snap if they carried on too far, they had to admit their own limits. 

He was reminded of a whole thing that we t round the Capital a few years ago, I'll omens, giant mountain eagles reported migrating to near the city. They tended to dwell in the highest ranges and most inaccessible peaks, that had been a whole weird time, people had been jumpy and the guard was pulling duty on keeping people calm. The blight and then the birds had people rattled. 

Shaking his mind free from that time, he felt calmer, something was blunting his alert he had from the woman, he shook his head again concentrating on something he could fix his mind to like a lighthouse. [color=6ecff6]“Aye, good ink, a book, papers suitable for landscapes and maybe a few portraits. Been a habit since I joined the guard a lifetime ago and had long hours waiting for things to happen.”[/color] He found himself saying before he could catch it. 

[color=6ecff6]“Just that. ”[/color] He managed to sharpen himself back up, he recognised the powers of a blightborn and he suspected how had caused his mind to slip and ruthlessly re anchored his mind like chains of a ship. It was not a skill that all had, only his experience and prior meeting of blightborns had given him an understanding of when they did so. 

[color=6ecff6]“Just those for now Postmaster.”[/color] He managed to restore his capital tone and clarity and neutral tone. He pushed himself to think of being sat leaning against one of the tower parapets watching the sun fall against the jagged mountain ranges and sketching out the view from the keep to the far horizon in graphite. He was technically probably not meant to be up their but people forgave a Lord Captain by that stage some eccentricity and flexibility to engage in personal activities as long as you did not interfere with duties. He was on alert and his aide would run him if the raid was finally launched. He remembered leaning in his armour, back against the wall, weapons laying across a barrel of arrows with a proper up pole arm. 

Somehow this man brought his mind back to odd places. He reentered again and found a tight spot that he finally found himself. 

This was why he had a rather wary opinion of such beings. 


[@The Savant]