Moga Liberty Chronicles 22: Fata Castle



We were sailing quickly towards a massive billowing pillar of smoke, visible from our position out to sea. Evil-looking wyvern like birds circled the ancient pillars that had stood for hundreds of years, now being used as supports for the castle. The massive pillars now stood against the approaching skyline with a dominant and angering presence, long ropes and flags flowing at its sides.

The harbor was dead and broken, its ancient and withered bolts and nails falling apart with rust. All of the boards and metal railings hung dimly clinging to the superstructure, beginning to rot away and garnering a smoky color from so many years of use and months of exposure to smoke. We feared to touch them.

The walk to the castle wasn't as hard as we expected it.