by Posh-Tim » Wed Jun 12, 2019 8:33 pm
Keane stares up at the moon, taking in the night air. The clear sky the, the stench of wretched industry thick in the air. Passers-by on the street walk by and step around him without even a glance, actively straying to avoid looking at him. He sighs, so much has changed since last he was here. It seems to change almost nightly.
He walks along the streets, robes flowing out behind him but never quite contacting their surroundings. As he walks he mutters, stilling the voices he can never quite hear in the back of his mind.
He approaches the gate, this is where he had been told to be, a more direct instruction than he was used to receiving.
He releases his visage as he arrives at the entrance, startling the man that stands there.
"My name is Keane Airellson, I believe I am expected"
It is a startlingly blunt statement at odds with the soft welsh it was spoken in.
Elder Keane
Clan Malkavian
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