As much as possible, it was Amythra's attempt to avoid bitter parting with her brother. Marvate hugged, bowed, and gave promise of future letters, tho the chaos of war would not allow any set frequency. The post in Jerrow was sketchy at best anyway. She took the Church's teachings to heart in the seven moments she had left with her brother and savored him as he walked away for the last time.
There would be letters, but she would never see him again.
The Docks under Annalow were in perpetual night with old and new styles and technologies used to light up the buildings and roads. With sack slung over her shoulder and gloves on, Amythra traced the scenery with eyes as if like charcoal on papyrus. The fantastic vista was unlike her dreams stunning her imagination, it being unable to stretch her brain around the scope and vastness of the thing. This cavern was simple huge. The sky was black with overhanging stalactites with pin-pricks of light coming from a few overhanging structures built into the rock perhaps a half mile above her. They formed a strange artificial constellation.
Overwhelmed, she turned to a gruff and hairy looking Borc who was helping tie the ships ropes to the pier. "I'm sorry, but where is the Bizarre?" The Borc's reaction was first one of surprise that Amythra was so naive, but after realizing she was a stupid islander, he frowned and pointed toward the ramp that spiraled out of view at the west of the cavern. She bowed and left.
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