The spire of Fort Drakon pierced the sky that was splashed with warm hues of reds, oranges, and yellows as the sun rose over the distant mountains. In these early hours Denerim was oddly quiet for a capital city, not even the bakers in the market had even started on their first batch for the day. Kallian came to enjoy these quiet mornings. Usually with a cup of tea, a blend of which she would buy from her old neighborhood in the elven alienage, as she looked out at the spire. This tranquility would last up until Brutus, her aging war dog, would bark with such volume she was sure the entire estate could hear him. It only made sense; he was practically deaf by now in his old age. His black muzzle was now speckled with greying spots and his romps in the courtyard were more of leisurely strolls.
As if on cue, Brutus’ booming bark sounded through the halls when Kallian finished her tea and set down the mug on the table. Kallian dressed in her usual a greyed cotton shirt, dark wool tro