by Narrator » Fri Nov 21, 2014 10:02 pm
Entering through the gate, the Archivist would be metaphorically assaulted by organized chaos. It was if a street fair was going on, with booths selling various grilled meats and delicate pastries lining the streets, and people crowding, singing, and generally having a good time.
Ahead, at the gates to The Factory, The Champion sat on an elevated chair, watching the festivities with a smile on his face, occasionally talking to some of the people who were walking past him, joking and teasing.
In the center of the town square, between the booths of food and the factory, an apparently golden statue of the Morrigan had just been raised, her arm transforming into ravens as it reached towards the sky.