[There's less distrust of magic here, Willem can tell— which is odd when balanced against the presence of monstrous demons as tall as towers. He'd come through the Rift into a place as alien as it was familiar. The carts and the horses that draw them are familiar enough. Jerkin and leather boots. But the luminous green mark on his hand, the enthusiasm with which they'd pulled him to his cause, set this place apart.
He's used to having to prove himself at least a little, even if it's not as bad as it is with paladins and all that. These days, he still doesn't know what he makes of New Briterica's widespread distrust of celestial magic, but he knows well enough to keep his own under wraps. And he's good at recognizing it when
ah.]
Bugger, [he exclaims, peeking at the concentric circles breaking where orb and dragon had vanished a moment ago. He's squarely behind the light-haired boy sitting down the incline, his lightly armored boots planted around a couple of daisies that don't deserve accidental rampage. There is a large sword strapped to his back. His hair is shooting out from his head as voluminously as ever, some twigs poking out of it-- leavings from battle.] Was that what I thought it was?
gallows;
He's used to having to prove himself at least a little, even if it's not as bad as it is with paladins and all that. These days, he still doesn't know what he makes of New Briterica's widespread distrust of celestial magic, but he knows well enough to keep his own under wraps. And he's good at recognizing it when
ah.]
Bugger, [he exclaims, peeking at the concentric circles breaking where orb and dragon had vanished a moment ago. He's squarely behind the light-haired boy sitting down the incline, his lightly armored boots planted around a couple of daisies that don't deserve accidental rampage. There is a large sword strapped to his back. His hair is shooting out from his head as voluminously as ever, some twigs poking out of it-- leavings from battle.] Was that what I thought it was?