<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: Timerian</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">I... I'm fine.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>he says, still looking a bit groggy, bit quickly reverting to his usual, shy self.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">C-City of the D-De-Dead it is. Expect... expect traps and the w-walking d-dead.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Ugrash nods in approval, still visibly annoyed at the stuttering, but wise enough not to push the issue further. Instead, he grips his friend at the shoulder, pulling a slightly confused looking Timerian with him.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: Ugrash</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">We faster. Go scout. Yell when need help. You come after us as you can. </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>With that he turns around, facing the city and starts to advance on it, still gently forcing Timerian to accompany him. Your keen ears pick up the beginning of what might be an argument between the two friends, but then they are too far away even for you to give a meaning to their whispered words.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: Ugrash</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Get it together. You creep her out if you...</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Slowly walking towards the city you have enough time to think about what you've heard, all the while a gentle, warm evening breeze blows out of the opened city gates, feeling more like an airy hand gently caressing your body than an actual breeze. Petting your head, you can feel the air playing with your long, beautiful blue hair. Caressing your exposed skin like the most gently of touches the wind travels down your arms, downwards the centre of your body, seemingly keenly intend of playing with you. Lifting your skirt with a particularly strong gush of wind, that definitely feels like fingers brushing against your weakly protected lower lips, the wind continues to fool around, and you could swear to hear the faintest of mocking laughter in the distance. All that stops though, as soon as you reach the city gates. Pausing a second to look at the magnificent sight, youstand right before the half closed wings, both wings in a state halfway between opened and closed, to show enough of their engravings to imagine how magnificent they look while closed, but still opened wide enough to even let a single cart into our out of the city.<br/><br/>Towering over 20 meters high, the double winged gates are imposing, if not intimidating indeed. Lined with characters in a language you have never seen before, the wings display the figure of a regal looking humanoid with the lower part of his body being a whirwind, wearing shackles around his arms and neck, and with a tiny lamp shown in one edge of the picture.<br/><br/>