He had meant to meet with Sohalia sooner, but things in Torchline had been... unsettled. More than unsettled, since the start of the new year, and his attentions had been focused entirely on dealing with the fallout of it all at home. It hadn't been until he'd glanced at a calendar and realized how late in the season it was getting that he'd remembered the tentatively set meeting.
Protocol would have him send a letter in advance of official business, but it was not the Heart of Stormbreak the King of Torchline was seeking. It was the mermanta Hadama, wanting to speak to his friend Sohalia.
And so on the night of the full moon, when he had finally set aside his stylus and wax tablet for the day, he Aquaported to the Eye of the Storm and pulled himself from the water.
Not that much changed when he did. Oh, the legs appeared, but he was no less wet as the rain lashed down upon him in sheets. Not that the tall, dark-skin man seemed to mind as he pushed his steely hair back and set out into the storm. His own Stormcall magic rose in response, creating a small counterstorm around him so that he walked in a gentle rain rather than a pounding torrent. There was nothing to be done about the lightning arcing overhead, but it stayed to the lightning rods and clouds, and soon enough he found his way to the Tower. The dragoons on duty were suspicious when he identified himself, but he informed them that he was willing to wait while one of them sent for Sohalia, to let her know that a man named Hadama was cooling his very literal heels downstairs for permission to enter.
Protocol would have him send a letter in advance of official business, but it was not the Heart of Stormbreak the King of Torchline was seeking. It was the mermanta Hadama, wanting to speak to his friend Sohalia.
And so on the night of the full moon, when he had finally set aside his stylus and wax tablet for the day, he Aquaported to the Eye of the Storm and pulled himself from the water.
Not that much changed when he did. Oh, the legs appeared, but he was no less wet as the rain lashed down upon him in sheets. Not that the tall, dark-skin man seemed to mind as he pushed his steely hair back and set out into the storm. His own Stormcall magic rose in response, creating a small counterstorm around him so that he walked in a gentle rain rather than a pounding torrent. There was nothing to be done about the lightning arcing overhead, but it stayed to the lightning rods and clouds, and soon enough he found his way to the Tower. The dragoons on duty were suspicious when he identified himself, but he informed them that he was willing to wait while one of them sent for Sohalia, to let her know that a man named Hadama was cooling his very literal heels downstairs for permission to enter.
