by The weather was bleak, dark and humid. Grey-black clouds hung low in the sky, seeming holding some ominous knowledge within them. The sky seemed to be pouring over the day, studying the people that came and went, raining here and there, opening up to let light shine only for a moment before closing in their grey cotton beauty. For most, this would be a great day to stay inside, warm up next to a fire, and enjoy some hot coffee with a friend or perhaps more. Not for this guy.
"Has there ever been a more perfect day?" Wayden huffs, trudging up the hill towards Infinity Hydra. The sergal carries a brownskin bag behind him, laiden with tattered clothing and assorted memorabilia of his travels.. and some fish. He wore a maroon t-shirt and black grey-camouflage pants. Hell, they probably blended in quite nicely with today's weather. He walks barefoot, powerful, stilted, and weathered sergal feet pushing him towards the building.
As Wayden nears the steps, he sways his tail behind him, betraying his excitement. To join a guild, finally, after wasting so much of his life just training and learning. Now he would be able to do something for the people, give back for all that they had given him, take down dark guilds, and so on and so on. Ad Nauseum. Wayden supposed that would be what most people would say for joining a legal guild, but if he were to be honest, he was just here to remain social, and to prove to his ancestors that mercy is honorable.
He climbs the steps and gazes at a great door, noticing quickly the weathered edges of the entrance. Hum, Wayden wonders, ..it's as if it's been replaced several times. Fights maybe? Great battles with dark guilds? Perhaps. The sergal didn't much care, and instead laid down his bag and strides forward. With a smile and a gleam in his eye, Wayden pulls the knocker and knocks hard on the door, four times, and then releases and waits patiently for an answer, crossing his arms, content.
"Has there ever been a more perfect day?" Wayden huffs, trudging up the hill towards Infinity Hydra. The sergal carries a brownskin bag behind him, laiden with tattered clothing and assorted memorabilia of his travels.. and some fish. He wore a maroon t-shirt and black grey-camouflage pants. Hell, they probably blended in quite nicely with today's weather. He walks barefoot, powerful, stilted, and weathered sergal feet pushing him towards the building.
As Wayden nears the steps, he sways his tail behind him, betraying his excitement. To join a guild, finally, after wasting so much of his life just training and learning. Now he would be able to do something for the people, give back for all that they had given him, take down dark guilds, and so on and so on. Ad Nauseum. Wayden supposed that would be what most people would say for joining a legal guild, but if he were to be honest, he was just here to remain social, and to prove to his ancestors that mercy is honorable.
He climbs the steps and gazes at a great door, noticing quickly the weathered edges of the entrance. Hum, Wayden wonders, ..it's as if it's been replaced several times. Fights maybe? Great battles with dark guilds? Perhaps. The sergal didn't much care, and instead laid down his bag and strides forward. With a smile and a gleam in his eye, Wayden pulls the knocker and knocks hard on the door, four times, and then releases and waits patiently for an answer, crossing his arms, content.
