Sasha stood at the footsteps of Linden castle, and looked up at the grey rock entrance.
The castle is a surprisingly good looking one, with ivy crawling all across it's towers and turrets. In Autumn, it must look glorious with the leaves crawling on the wall red, and the background of mountains a vista of yellow and red.
However, right now, with the onset of winter, the barren vines are thorny, and the white walls looked wet and slippery, with peeling lime coating here and there. The very castle looked like a wet dog beaten into submission.
She wondered if it's just her psychological effect, or if the castle itself exuded such a mood.
Seems it does, for the guards coming to receive them are a mixture of forty and above, or twenty and below.
A mix of green boys and old men.
Dan had a premonition upon looking at the men coming to receive them.
