In the shadows of the Holy City

Gra'akast

Malacost made his way into the side alleys of the Holy City's main square. He was dressed in typical desert garb. His face covered apart from his eyes. A few people greeted him and he aped their gestures, touching his chest and forehead with his left hand.

Despite its impressive architecture and design he could tell the place was merely a shadow of what it once was. It felt abandoned. Crumbling slowly into oblivion. It was a lonely place with only distant memories of what once was.

Some of the paths and roads he roamed were indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape. Dust and sand claiming large swathes of it.

He needed to find a place to hole himself up and keep an eye on that cursed witch. Of course she had been taken to the largest, most opulent building around. Some sort of temple. He wanted to spit when he saw depictions of their Twins Gods. Blasphemy. Magik and religion intertwined. This was indeed the abode of Demons.

He escaped from the barque earlier. Having killed a young servant for his clothes and a small pouch of copper and silver. He had choked him slowly and disposed of the body into the waters of the oasis. He left no trace of his stay behind.

Some doors were boarded up tightly and some showed signs of painted symbols with meanings unknown to the bounty hunter.

Some houses seemed in relative decent condition while others were ruined along collapsed walls and piles of rubble. Limestone crumbled off of the walls and were slowly replaced by vines that crawled their way towards the rooftops.

He needed to get inside that building. He just wasn't sure how yet...