THE NOON SUN GLEAMED HIGH AND MIGHTY.
It spinned majestic gold and blurred a saintly white. It rested great and proud in the vast blueness of the summerland sky. And it was under this pavilion of amber and teal that a fine carriage rumbled up to the gates of the Ivory Castle.
It's rider, a ruddy coachman had on a fine doublet of elegant red and two spills of gilden embroidery tapering down his sleeves. The horses he reined in front had clean hides of chestnut, combed back to glisten under the undern sun. Four steady beasts with muscles toned for transport.
From the coachman's outlook and the trimmed fur of his four stallions, it was certain the man was distinguished from the other tides of horsemasters that ran litter for the denizens of Calipsos.
