Log Entry 140323.97

To say that Hell is a beautiful world is an understatement. Everything about it is accentuated. Even the colours aren't just bright, they are positively vivid. The sky isn't blue; it's turquoise. The clouds aren't white. They have the crystal brilliance of snow, and as for the land ...
Vast rainforests cover the majority of the landmasses which are strangely centred along the equator, extending no more than twenty-five degrees north and south of it. Above and below the single continent lies uninterrupted ocean capped by polar icecaps. From space, the world is oddly striped.
On the surface, the forests aren't just green; they're emerald green, lime green, silver-green—a thousand different shades of green and none of them dull. Brightly covered flora assault your visual senses with blooms—some of them big enough to swallow you whole—in big, gaudy colours. Those blooms lacking in size make up for their shortfall in sheer number and density. They fall in bunches like grapes or climb like ivy in thick clusters, and the scents are quite overwhelming but not stifling. In fact, I found myself drawing deeper breaths, welcoming their scents into my lungs.
Even the animals are not ordinary.
As we materialised on the planet's surface, a flock of ferties flew down and we had to duck to avoid being impaled!
The size of a large domestic cat, ferties are neither mammal, bird nor insect. They have a long, fine, curved beak like a hummingbird's, but with their increased size, their beaks are veritable weapons over a foot long!
A chuckle awoke me from my reflections, and I realised that in my effort to avoid being stabbed by the ferties, I had hurled myself into T'Roc's arms. My cheeks flushed as I withdrew. I tugged uncomfortably at the jacket of my uniform and mumbled a feeble apology.
Our attention, though, soon returned to the flock as they settled in the trees. With three legs, two wings and a long, spiky tail, they perched on the branches shrieking and protesting at each other ... and their colours! They are magnificent!
The ferties beak, shiny and black, is seamlessly joined to a large armoured head. As the hood runs down to the creature's neck, it narrows into rigid plates that continue down its spine and into a long, thorny tail that it whips about, thrashing the air. I'm not sure which end of the creature I should consider the more dangerous—the end with the epee on it, or the one with the morning star* on its end.
All of those hard parts shine like shellac, but from under the armour plates, brightly-coloured fur in rusty tones of red, brown, orange and ginger emerge covering the animal's body, but even that changes where the wings sprout. There, the fur mutates into feathers that are tipped in many shades of blue, green and yellow.
You'd think with such vivid colouring, these creatures would stand out from their background, but as they settled and roosted more calmly, they blended into their surroundings with ease.
"Jenny!" I heard a voice cry and turned to see Troy coming towards us. His arms were open wide in greeting and he wore a long, dark-green cloak about his shoulders.
It was good to see him again.
"Come," he said. "King Garda awaits you."

* a medieval spiked club

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