02-19-2018, 01:25 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-19-2018, 11:24 AM by King Ghidorah.)
Walking nonstop from sunup to just before midnight, Pinay made good time. The road to Minis Tirith was well-worn, and other travelers gave the armed and burn-ravaged Oskinder a wide berth, intimidated by her air of deathly purpose or frightened by the bark-like yellow textures of her patchwork face. Contrary to her expectations, nothing and nobody attacked her, and by the evening of the eighth day she was marching through lowland fields in the shadow of Camelot's greatest city.
The mountain citadel was a wonder; It monopolized an entire peak. Terraces of white stone fortress housed rings full of city, growing narrower as one progressed tier by tier towards the top of the rocky tor: an anvil-shaped plateau crowned by a grand promenade which fronted a castle with an alabaster spire - the home of the King. The vertical sides of the central mesa cut through the inner walls of the great metropolis like the prow of a ship, penetrating every level of the city in a grand metaphor for the monarch's power. Glowing softly in the light of the setting sun with larger, untamed peaks flanking it like bodyguards, Minas Tirith seemed to radiate nobility, authority and prestige.
As with every other time she'd caught sight of it, Pinay hated it instantly. Such a large settlement had a gravity all its own, distorting the landscape for hundreds of miles in every direction. The very idea - a place which became a vortex rather than a moving part of the natural order - went against everything her people had believed.
She grimaced at the thought, a horrible pressure rising up in her mind. It didn't matter how she felt about the city - the fact remained that it was where she had to go.
There was a moment at the main gates of the towering outer walls, where the lowest and widest level of Minas Tirith interfaced with the traffic flowing in from the surrounding plains, when Pinay thought it was all going to fall apart. She watched the sentries in their white-tree livery and mail hauberks interrogating a merchant and thought that perhaps they wouldn't allow her into the city, and she'd have to find some other way.
Her concerns came to nothing. They inspected her polearm, gave it back to her, asked her business and waved her through. Pinay passed between the massive multi-story guard-towers and beneath the stony shadow of the overbuilt gatehouse, and found herself in a bustling central plaza.
The mountain citadel was a wonder; It monopolized an entire peak. Terraces of white stone fortress housed rings full of city, growing narrower as one progressed tier by tier towards the top of the rocky tor: an anvil-shaped plateau crowned by a grand promenade which fronted a castle with an alabaster spire - the home of the King. The vertical sides of the central mesa cut through the inner walls of the great metropolis like the prow of a ship, penetrating every level of the city in a grand metaphor for the monarch's power. Glowing softly in the light of the setting sun with larger, untamed peaks flanking it like bodyguards, Minas Tirith seemed to radiate nobility, authority and prestige.
As with every other time she'd caught sight of it, Pinay hated it instantly. Such a large settlement had a gravity all its own, distorting the landscape for hundreds of miles in every direction. The very idea - a place which became a vortex rather than a moving part of the natural order - went against everything her people had believed.
She grimaced at the thought, a horrible pressure rising up in her mind. It didn't matter how she felt about the city - the fact remained that it was where she had to go.
There was a moment at the main gates of the towering outer walls, where the lowest and widest level of Minas Tirith interfaced with the traffic flowing in from the surrounding plains, when Pinay thought it was all going to fall apart. She watched the sentries in their white-tree livery and mail hauberks interrogating a merchant and thought that perhaps they wouldn't allow her into the city, and she'd have to find some other way.
Her concerns came to nothing. They inspected her polearm, gave it back to her, asked her business and waved her through. Pinay passed between the massive multi-story guard-towers and beneath the stony shadow of the overbuilt gatehouse, and found herself in a bustling central plaza.