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Built by the Tenacine Protectorate, Bedaurejo Castle stood proudly on a hill, from where it overlooked a town left behind by time's indifferent march. They said Bedaurejo was one step from being a ghost town.
Though its layout was warped by distortion, the castle's magnificence was preserved, its halls twisting endlessly into a labyrinth of ornate finery. Large courtyards and wide interiors in the neo-romantic architectural style granted plenty of space for large or airborne pokémon. The grand hall held a ceremonial round table in the Old Protectorate style which – though discoloured and oxidised – added to the grandiose atmosphere.
Dungeon dust peppered the walls, ethereally glinting in beams of silver lunar light that shone through the high windows. No matter the time of day outside the distortion, the castle was now eternally overlooked by a dusky nightfall, painting the skies in subtle hues of pink and purple, struck with orange on the horizon, and silver across the parapets from the false-moon ever overhead. Besides the whistling winds, the most common sounds were the cries of wild Ghost-types, bats, and other crepuscular 'mon.
Though far from a shabby location to set up a base of operations, the lack of Vanguard iconography made it clear that any arrangements here were temporary, made in haste to reach the heroic spirits first. Instead, faded banners in the courtyards and halls displayed the imperial heraldry of the Old Protectorate – silver laurels, crossed blades, and crescent moons.
Though its layout was warped by distortion, the castle's magnificence was preserved, its halls twisting endlessly into a labyrinth of ornate finery. Large courtyards and wide interiors in the neo-romantic architectural style granted plenty of space for large or airborne pokémon. The grand hall held a ceremonial round table in the Old Protectorate style which – though discoloured and oxidised – added to the grandiose atmosphere.
Dungeon dust peppered the walls, ethereally glinting in beams of silver lunar light that shone through the high windows. No matter the time of day outside the distortion, the castle was now eternally overlooked by a dusky nightfall, painting the skies in subtle hues of pink and purple, struck with orange on the horizon, and silver across the parapets from the false-moon ever overhead. Besides the whistling winds, the most common sounds were the cries of wild Ghost-types, bats, and other crepuscular 'mon.
Though far from a shabby location to set up a base of operations, the lack of Vanguard iconography made it clear that any arrangements here were temporary, made in haste to reach the heroic spirits first. Instead, faded banners in the courtyards and halls displayed the imperial heraldry of the Old Protectorate – silver laurels, crossed blades, and crescent moons.
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