*A dark elf, badly burned and scarred worse steps out from the shadows inhabited by a few Valkinvy and an orc*
*A chill fils the air as the elf slings his lute from his back and starts to strum a melody*
*All are reminded of a lost love, a failed mission, or a dissapointed father. THe tune is ended, the elf steps back into the shade and is effectively no more. Naught but the smoke of his fireweed remains*
A cold wind
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promethean
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Donovan Thynedar
- Town Member
- Posts: 628
- Joined: Tue Sep 23, 2003 2:18 am
- Location: With his beloved at the end of all things.
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"Um. Hmmm."
*Taps a finger against his chin, looking thoughtful, then walks to the bar and pours himself a drink*
"Wait just one second..."
*Downs the contents of the glass. Pauses for a moment and looks around**
"Nope. I'm not drunk."
*Rolls up his sleeve and pinches his arm*
"Not dreaming either. I suppose that leaves a simple question... Who or what was that?"
*Taps a finger against his chin, looking thoughtful, then walks to the bar and pours himself a drink*
"Wait just one second..."
*Downs the contents of the glass. Pauses for a moment and looks around**
"Nope. I'm not drunk."
*Rolls up his sleeve and pinches his arm*
"Not dreaming either. I suppose that leaves a simple question... Who or what was that?"
One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal, though ... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope.
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promethean
a cold wind
*the elf walks over to the barkeep, whispers a few words in his ear, and hands him a package. With a knowing hesitation, the barkeep takes the package and accepts a few chits of silver for payment. The Elf returns to his dark corner, satisfied*