12th April -- Dark Citadel
Clouds of dark gasses swirled over the city, lit from within by arcing bolts of hellfire lightning. Brimstone ash rained from the skies. The commoners of Outer Tilog City danced naked in the streets, all colored a slick black from the detrius of the storm that fell from above. It was Friday.
Jitney poked his head out of the window of a building directly at the center of the maelstrom. It was oddly quiet here.
He squinted and held two fingers up to the sky, as if measuring.
"Three three spans. It's dilating!" he called over his shoulder.
"Wait," came an exasperated voice from inside. "Is that thirty three, or just three?"
Jitney cackled. "Darius, if it was thirty three we'd be seeing a lot more than ash and ash and skyfire!"
"Whatever. Get back in here.." A crash split the night as Darius threw the labor forecasting book into a pile of neatly stacked armor.
And then it started to rain. The peasants groaned and ran indoors. The grass died. And Jitney, emaciated from lack of food, stuck his head out the window to look at the sky. A rain drop struck him in the cheek. It left a dent.
"You really need to eat one of those pastries, Jit. You don't look so good." Darius poked at the dent, making Jitney wriggle away.
"Fine. But revive Stephen again make him put on the fertility helmet. I really just just feel better when he's wearing it."
24th April -- Dark Citadel
Jitney strolls about Alebad. Diplomacy.
"Halycon sucks! OT literally takes your refuse and hands you gold coins! Are you KIDDING KIDDING me! Why are you still here?"
A peasant looks his way. "We don't hate you as much."
"You bet your sweet sweet biscuits for don't. Come see me tomorrow." Jitney threw a scone and sauntered away.