The skyport loomed over the small walls of the courtyard, easily a hundred feet tall. It reminded me of the seaside warehouses we fought over in Port Vesna, save that there were no roads or shipping gates to receive cargo.
The guards at the gate looked our party up and down, frowning at my horns and tail, and almost scowling at the sight of Fable. Aerion leaned close, casually tugging his collar, and whispered to the captain. I leaned forward, ears strained, but his voice was too low for me to make out more than something about "...winds of change…" The guard absently touched his own collar, which held a red ribbon bow clipped on like some kind of badge or medal.
"All clear," he said, giving me one final suspicious glance.
