___.Karian Cemetery.
___.The resting place of hereos and legends. Outside the woods of Huntsford, near a temple from the days of the Old World. The gates were made of black wrought iron, tall, imposing things. There was no desire, no wish to enter it. The famous, the almost-forgotten rested in that place. The cemetery stretched nearly further than the eye could see--very distant blurred tips of the distinct wrought iron fence could be seen past the entrance gate. Karian Cemetery, kept by the Karian family for more decades then most could count. Supposed descendants of one of the Old gods, the black skinned war-goddess Fentul. Guarding, protecting, it was simply in their nature. Their bodies reflected the grey shades of the cemetery, and its less than practical location. Past a field of barren, broken rocks and the burnt corpses of a dead tree-field, only someone with sturdy legs and a strong will would reach it without a fair amount of cuts and scrapes.  home bishen stories bondmate |
