I landed squarely on my feet before throwing a few darts at the creature, only for them to bounce off like pebbles. Disappointed, I tossed a few smoke bombs his way while I reached for my swords. Nothing too remarkable about them, really. A standard issued gladius in my right and a spatha in my left. A little unbalanced, I know, but for some reason, it always seemed to work for me. This odd quirk of mine would earn me the distinction of being called ‘Tristan the Hefty Lefty.’
No matter; the shadows have a habit of coming out at night, and my training has always taught me that the shadows are to be embraced, not feared. But there were ‘good’ shadows and ‘bad’ shadows, and given my newly acquainted company, I was not entirely sure which one was which.
At first glance, I was not quite sure if I was hallucinating. Some of the men partook in Ulyrian Truffle, but I did not find reality overbearing to the point where I wanted to fill my vision with wild colours and ghosts. I blinked twice and the spectre-like figure was still there, completely clad in black.
There was nothing particularly particular about the town of Shade’s Reach. It was more of an assortment of small houses sitting in the middle of nowhere. There was no major reason to visit the town, and if one was to ask any of its twenty odd denizens, they very much would prefer it that way. Of course, the town does get a few visitors, welcome or unwelcome, from time to time, whether it’s a starving, thirsty traveler at death’s door or the provincial guard stopping by for a drink. They would have gone for the local girls, too, had they been just a little less homely.