One young man looked as though he was a knight having arrived at the end of a drawn-out battle, with scuffed armor hanging from his shoulders and a pair of swords held loosely in one hand that seemed more burden than brandished. And as beautiful as the city might have been- and as friendly as its residents had been to him thus far- the fact remained that Ramza had arrived only after facing a fiend that nearly bested him; after he was seared and blinded by its death throes, and after the ground crumbled away to nothingness beneath his feet.
Suffice to say, he was as wearied as he looked. It left him reading over his introductory letter- or perhaps a conscription notice?- with tired resignation. But there was a small section that had caught his interest- and within it was written the reason for his arrival.
"Touch," he murmured to himself. So that was all they would ask of him...? A far cry from the struggles he'd so recently left behind. And this one with both an end and means that were as relieving as they were puzzling. The details of living spaces and a 'cash card' he would ponder later; for now, he was content to tuck one sword away in his belt, and pray that he would not draw too much attention for keeping the other in hand.
He'd mull it over once he'd cleared his head; and with that hollow coolness still weighing him down, he moved straightaway for those warm, steaming drinks within the lobby... and perhaps a quieter vantage point after, where he might find a familiar face or two within the crowds.
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Suffice to say, he was as wearied as he looked. It left him reading over his introductory letter- or perhaps a conscription notice?- with tired resignation. But there was a small section that had caught his interest- and within it was written the reason for his arrival.
"Touch," he murmured to himself. So that was all they would ask of him...? A far cry from the struggles he'd so recently left behind. And this one with both an end and means that were as relieving as they were puzzling. The details of living spaces and a 'cash card' he would ponder later; for now, he was content to tuck one sword away in his belt, and pray that he would not draw too much attention for keeping the other in hand.
He'd mull it over once he'd cleared his head; and with that hollow coolness still weighing him down, he moved straightaway for those warm, steaming drinks within the lobby... and perhaps a quieter vantage point after, where he might find a familiar face or two within the crowds.