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Character
Another gust of heat-soaked wind sputtered across Cedric's pale features.
The youth muttered a curse as dust and other forms of detritus were drawn across his visage, though he had grown rather used to such environmental intrusions. It was important to understand just what his people were living with here on Neelgaimon, even if the experience was anything if pleasant.
Alone, the gray eyed warden marched into the town. His guards had been left aboard the Chimaera, and now assumed governing functions of the vessel despite their protest. Cedric wished to see things through the eyes of the people he had been charged with protecting, and doing so with six armed men at his back would provide mutated results indeed. With this in mind, the heir to the Grayson family had come alone to the dust-choked world.
The majority of Neelgaimon was overrun with factories. It provided more than its fair share for the Dominion's crusades, and its people were enjoying the benefits of a thriving economy as a result. Even still, certain parts of this forgotten world were still left to the wills of the wilds. Not everyone could find a job in the mega-factories, and some simply refused to work such paltry jobs. They preferred the appeal of the outdoors and the lack of laws that came with living under the radar.
It was here that Cedric now wandered.
The town itself was a bustling little place with a name he could not adequately pronounce. Speeders and people milled about the narrow streets, kicking up dust and all manners of other obstructions as they went along their way. Men and women haggled for resources in the street, and children bumbled about in search of something new to play with for the day.
Clad in a simple jacket and a brown cloak that reached his ankles, Cedric was nondescript. No one paid the young man any mind as he moved from one alley to the next, observing all that went on.
And just as none paid him any mind, no one cared to look at the group of six men that came into town aboard armed speeder bikes.
[member="Asha Hex"]
The youth muttered a curse as dust and other forms of detritus were drawn across his visage, though he had grown rather used to such environmental intrusions. It was important to understand just what his people were living with here on Neelgaimon, even if the experience was anything if pleasant.
Alone, the gray eyed warden marched into the town. His guards had been left aboard the Chimaera, and now assumed governing functions of the vessel despite their protest. Cedric wished to see things through the eyes of the people he had been charged with protecting, and doing so with six armed men at his back would provide mutated results indeed. With this in mind, the heir to the Grayson family had come alone to the dust-choked world.
The majority of Neelgaimon was overrun with factories. It provided more than its fair share for the Dominion's crusades, and its people were enjoying the benefits of a thriving economy as a result. Even still, certain parts of this forgotten world were still left to the wills of the wilds. Not everyone could find a job in the mega-factories, and some simply refused to work such paltry jobs. They preferred the appeal of the outdoors and the lack of laws that came with living under the radar.
It was here that Cedric now wandered.
The town itself was a bustling little place with a name he could not adequately pronounce. Speeders and people milled about the narrow streets, kicking up dust and all manners of other obstructions as they went along their way. Men and women haggled for resources in the street, and children bumbled about in search of something new to play with for the day.
Clad in a simple jacket and a brown cloak that reached his ankles, Cedric was nondescript. No one paid the young man any mind as he moved from one alley to the next, observing all that went on.
And just as none paid him any mind, no one cared to look at the group of six men that came into town aboard armed speeder bikes.
[member="Asha Hex"]