So this is most definitely not pixel art, but I wasn't sure where else to put this. I'm not planning to post all my work on this as I go, but I would definitely like any criticism I can get. Of the six people who have read so far, not a single person has any gripes, and that's bothering me.
Code:
It had been hours since the carriage halted, longer still since the downpour had relented. The mud squished beneath every heavy hoof, the rain pounded furiously against the roof of the carriage. A dim lantern flickered rhythmically near the coachman, casting shadows upon the tarpaulin; there was another figure taking shelter inside, hidden beneath an aquamarine shroud.
“It’s just there, milady.”
The hooded figure raised her head – the most elegant emerald eyes peered out of the dimly lit carriage. It was a modest castle that she found, nestled betwixt hills and fields – charming despite the abhorrent weather. She smiled a moment, until her eyes shifted downward and her joy turned to a somber stare.
A hand emerged from her cloak, brandishing a neatly rolled parchment sealed with a royal crest. She eyed it, almost worryingly, and then turned to face the castle once more.
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The woman could feel eyes peering out at them as the carriage made its way through the cobble streets with a ceaseless clatter of hooves on stone. She moved closer to the coachman and eyed the buildings as they rode passed; even the streets seemed pleasant here compared to the capitol. A few minutes went by in near silence, until the driver pulled lightly on his horse’s reins and their transport slowed to a halt before the towering castle gate.
“I’ve a customer who has business with your Lord!”
The coachman was met with a momentary lull before the gate parted, just wide enough for a single soldier to step through. His auburn plated mail bore a similar crest to that of the parchment hidden beneath the mysterious woman’s cloak; a spread-winged dove above crossed lilies. He approached slowly, eyeing them intently. With one hand on the hilt of his sabre, he peered in before stepping around to the back of the carriage. After a few more minutes and a thorough inspection of the lady’s transportation, he relinquished his blade and spoke.
“State your business, my lady,” he inquired gruffly with a hand on each hip.
“I carry a letter of great import, sir; I request an audience with your Lord at the earliest convenience. If you would be so kind, I could do with a warm seat next to a fire.”
The soldier hesitated, studying the woman stolidly. With a slight sigh, the woman stood carefully, her cloak separated tactfully on either side of her rounded abdomen. She placed her hands lovingly on the bulge of her belly and smiled. In an instant, the man offered his hand to the woman and lowered his gaze.
“I apologize for my callousness, my lady,” he began, his cold façade clearly rattled. The coachman chuckled to himself, smirking as he gazed over his shoulder at the woman. “Please, allow me to help you.”
The woman placed one hand gently in the soldier’s palm and stepped out from the cover of the canvas, tiptoeing her way down the steps onto the cobbles. The guard stood tall and nodded shyly, evidently embarrassed. The lady turned and curtsied, facing her traveling companion with a grateful gaze.
“I thank you, sir. You have been ever so gracious, and it has been a pleasure traveling with you these past days.”
“No, no, milady, the pleasure has been all my own. I wish you many happy years and the best of luck.” he replied with a low bow. Sitting up straight, he scratched at his graying beard and watched as the guard led the woman through the parting castle gates. As the pair crossed the threshold of the castle walls, more guards marched out level with one another to relieve the coachman of the lady’s effects.
“Farewell, milady.”
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