Taalia Giovanni

Taalia proceeded cautiously into the moonlit ruins of that crested the hill with its dilapidated, lonely image. Though singular atop its heap, the small fort was oddly serene, the silvery light of Luna almost blanketing it the way a mother would an only child. Milo's formations in the snow had calmed the shepardess, who had originally considered little more than more wicked specter's and spirits at play, but as she entered through the decaying archways she looked upon the transparent stairs with wide-eyed astonishment.

Nothing felt wrong. That was the weirdest thing. Having grown up as a slave to the Skaven, Taalia had a particularly well-developed and attuned antennae for danger and the sinister, yet it seemed inactive in this place. There was no instinctual caution, no shivering warning or deep-seated concern that she was moving into the embrace of something wicked and malicious. Instead, she felt oddly at peace, a sincere and genuine tranquility.

Reaching down to pick up her cat, Taalia looked up the circular stairwell, as she was able to spot the adjacent battlements through the semi-see through moonlight construct that filled in the stairway and made it passable. Swallowing, biting her bottom lip, but once again feeling no fear or apprehension, the shepardess took her first step onto the silvery step before her, marveling at how it held up her weight as if it were a permanent fixture. Then another step. And another. Gaining confidence, the girl ascended the stairway, one hand holding her pet close and her other ready to grab at any outcropping should the spectre's trap be exposed and the ground give away beneath her...