(Untitled)

[flame_and_void]

Quietly, Rand sits at the bar and orders himself a cup of mulled wine. He sips at it absentmindedly as he unfurls a small stack of maps from a leather case that he's brought in with him, most of them focused on a northern mountain range labelled in large lettering as the "Borderlands

Comments

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells casts a glance at the other man's table on his way to a suitable table. "Long night of planning?" he idly inquires.

[flame_and_void]

"The job of a leader does not take time to rest, unfortunately."

He glances up after he makes a notation underneath a column of troop numbers.

"Wells," he nods in greeting.

[milkbonesoldier]

"Christ, I wish it did," Wells mutters. In a more normal voice he says, "This'd be back home, then?"

[flame_and_void]

"In the sense that it's the world that I'm from, yes. Home...well, only Lan really calls it home. That, and those insane enough to live in the Borderlands."

He shifts one of the maps over, pointing to an expanse of mountains labeled as such. There appear to be large contingents of triangles past the mountain range in an area labeled The Blight, with four kingdoms butting up against the mountain range on the opposite side. A fifth dotted outline exists on the far eastern portion of the map, but appears to be absorbed by the blight.