(( I hate intro posts! >< ))
Rath was tired. Metal lined boots dragged against the cobblestone floor, the friction igniting sparks in his wake. He was dressed like any mageknight would be - a dark midnight blue castle milita uniform finely fitted against his lanky frame, ribboned with silver accents. The heavy fur cape that hung off his shoulders was his own however, the excess of it trailing limply at his side. It was pitch black, and when he wore his hood, he really did look like some kind of tall, furry monster with feet like fireworks.
The scene itself was awash in colors of the sunset, vibrant pinks and golds that made even the dirty slums Rath was frequenting at the moment look like something out of a storybook. The children that played in the streets ignored the calls of their mothers to be 'in before dark', too caught up in their own world of knights and dragons.
"You better leave Serendipity alone!" One girl dared, flailing a fat stick wildly in the air. Rath couldn't tell whether it was meant to be a sword or a mace.
"RAAAR."
If only it were so simple: if all knights were virtuous, bad guys obvious, and if glory came in the form of batting a small boy with a stick. He clicked his tongue against his fangs, skirted around the epic battle, and continued away until their young voices seemed distant.. muffled... fizzled out, until everything became eerily quiet amongst the shifty backstreets of Arca. It was here that the poverty came trickling to a stop, the only people daring to litter these old, abandoned buildings being either up to no good or completely homeless. (These days, Rath was decidedly the former of the two.)
Which was why he was absolutely bewildered to see a rather elaborate, expensive-looking statue set right up against a wall tucked deep within a side alley. The boy halted midstep, twirled about on his heel, and advanced on the statue not unlike a moth to a flame. For Rath, curiosity was an extra force of gravity, pulling and drawing him in. And for what? The mageknight leaned in towards the statue, trailing his fingers gently over its dark, stoney surface without heed.
It wasn't sculpted to resemble anything human, of that Rath was sure. If it wasn't the dragon legs that gave her away, it could be the wings and tail. Her face and the upper half of her body was pretty humanoid, still - and scantily clad, if he did say so himself. And yes - 'she', he had decided, as he took in the distressed look twisting her otherwise... handsomely sculpted face. Rath's hands strayed about her face, one brushing experimentally over the stone of her cheek (trying to figure out the original carving stone) and the other tracing his fingertips delicately along the shell of one of her exposed ears (marveling the detail achieved in the carving). This was definitely a creation born from someone's imagination, else he knew no creature that fit these criteria. Except for one...
"Gargoyle..." He breathed, his eyes shimmering like spiderwebs as the last hints of daylight slipped away beneath the horizon.
