impersonal space

Torna's finest engineering built eclectic, geometric feats of architectural prowess in Auresco. Vaulted ceilings without visible bracing, impossibly unassuming alternating overhangs, sleek yet imposing towers, and a sense of openness despite the relatively small footprint of the city all made it quite the destination, across the desert.

You could hide fugitives in the city. Play hide and then go seek in the city. You could fit entire herds of Armu in the city and their great bulk would go unnoticed as they blended in, backs mossy green.

What a massive, miniature place at the Titan's tail's head.

Here in Aletta, the storeys of the manor had unremarkably average, if not low, ceilings (the Praetorium had been quite high, quite lofted, quite lofty), and the focus was on well-chosen stone and wood complements. It wasn't meant to stand out. It didn't need to. It sat at the edge of the Titan, a patently obvious port of call.

Though anyone could have business here, not many did. Whether that was because of a lack of favor on the part of the past Lord of Aletta, a lack of actual esteem toward Addam's capabilities currently, or a purposeful enclave-making on the bastard prince's part, Minoth didn't know. Regardless, it was so. All of Torna's excesses lay in the capital. Aletta was the land of the simple, the homey, the necessary; oh, noblest and free.

And yet.

It was a beautiful room Addam had shown him into, for sure, but Minoth still felt out of place.

He felt...out of scale. Too tall, oblique and inorthogonal.

It was a house, a home. A place of comfort. A place of infinite comforts, given how Addam had brought it off. So why was he so damn uncomfortable?