The sun vanishes beneath the sea-filled horizon. It leaves behind a sky mottled with stars beginning to glow against shades of violets and blues. Before the water that in time becomes the Sea of Ghosts, the Junasa have taken down their yurts and firepits are no more than ash and bone from fish grilled across their heat. Along the sand are the tracks of nix-ox heading to the Ash Mountain while the outline of footprints trails the water edge in the opposite direction.
It was a wonderful sound... that rhythmic thudding of a golden coin rolling back and forth back and forth. Grinding over an aged, wooden desktop with a sound that somehow magically drags out each otherwise silent second. One could slow it down to a crawl, letting the ears pick up each and every little grove as the two surfaces met... or speed it up so the myriad of drumming little bumps ran together in a chorus of beautiful cacophony.
The gray clouds over Chorrol rolled and tumbled in the sky like a Reachman's roiling cauldron. Heavy ash-laden rain fell in sparse waves, washing the ground in a sooty black. A lava-filled crag had opened some years before in the aftermath of the Soulburst. The unearthly glow that it cast through strange shadows on the crooked and upended buildings -- yet, despite it all, people remained there. The tavern was open, and some adventurers and survivors of the disaster stayed to make what life they could. It was hard, but it was home.
The air always smelled so much better after it rained. The sky a little bluer after it finished trying to drown the land. The grass a little greener and shinier. Children running around, leaping in to the puddles that pockmarked the cobblestone roads with gleeful laughter. The world just seemed more alive after it rained. Anytime it happened, Mercer was happier. It was his favorite part of any day. Although today he was being forced to spend coin he didn't want to.
She could see a light quivering ahead of her, a fire’s light: the sort of inconsistent sputter and the smell of smoke were easy giveaways. There was a copse of trees around it, resilient against an endless stretch of meadow and open sky. The sky itself was too littered with stars to be sinister, and the only thing unkind about this night was the chill on the wind.