The Painted Riddles of Durakiss: A Hunt for Mysterious Walls

Whilst the morning mists did still cling to Durakiss’ docks, a discovery did set both tongues and hearts aflutter: a mysterious graffiti, carved upon the lonely tower at the end of West Dock. « Durakiss from a rose.. There used to be a greying tower alone on », it did read, in a calligraphy as elegant as it was puzzling. As though the very words did dance upon the stone, mocking and elusive, like Erevan himself.

And ‘twas but the beginning. Scarcely had the news spread like wildfire through the port’s taverns than Dame Theresa of Durakiss, our dear and ever-bewildered shieldmaiden, found herself before a second inscription, this time adorning the walls of the Royal Post Office. « Official Durakiss Tourist Attraction number 2 », it did proclaim, followed by a message congratulating the wanderer for finding « the second of five ».

Rumours did seize the city like a rising tide. Was this the work of a bold artist, seeking to turn Durakiss into an open-air museum? Or perhaps the deed of a jester inspired by Erevan, sowing clues as one sows seeds of chaos? « Vandalism? Street art? », Dame Theresa did ponder, her brow furrowed, whilst the nimble fingers of Durakiss’ thieves did already rub together at the thought of solving this mystery… or profiting from it.

I, Eleawen, chose to follow the trail. Armed with mine quill and a smile as mischievous as the god I serve, I did question the merchants, the sailors, and even the dock rats. « ‘Tis a game, my lady », an old sea wolf did whisper to me, handing me a rusted coin. « A game where the rules are written upon the walls… and the winner shall be he who can read betwixt the lines. » Betwixt the lines, or mayhap upon the lines, for Erevan doth love to play with words as much as with destinies.

When Erevan doth paint upon the walls, ‘tis not to stain the stone, but to carve a lesson therein: even the darkest riddles hide a glimmer of truth… and an invitation to dance with the unknown.