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Post by brendur on Jun 30, 2010 10:33:47 GMT -5
Chaos, as Brendur had come to learn in his various flirtations with it, rarely came to tea with small neat, bite-sized packages. It showed up on your doorstep, while you were in the tub, with a billy club and several of it's hulking inbred relations, all under the impression that you owed them something. The trick to surviving such a scene? Be willing to sneak out the window and run down the street in your birthday suit. Clothes, decency, and sanity were a luxury under such cirmustances, so a Holst discarded them for a healthy dose of uncommon sense. "MINE!" tolled the first bell of madness.
Brendur was in mid-draw from the deck when elves, soup bowls, and ferrets decided to damn gravity and try their hand at flying. It was a damned good try in his opinion to, regardless there was but one inevitable conclusion. He froze and kept his eyes on the volatile scene as Valisilwyn charged through the crowds after that glimmer of gold with a bit of fur attached to it. He prayed that the inn's clientele could spot it as no true threat, that everyone would have the sense to keep their sword's shea...
Well so much for that sentiment, all it ever took was one. Once one sword came out and started shouting about how sharp and pointy it was, well the rest in the group just had to join in. Then suddenly you had a room filled with sharp and pointy bits, sprinkle a pile of cash in the middle and you have one hell of a recipe for disaster.
Of course no disaster would be complete without a ferret.
Brendur's poker face had withstood the most penetrating of gazes from lords, ladies, merchants, and ugly old bastards with shivs aplenty. No man alive can keep a straight face when a ferret decides to scale their leg, Brendur's as a matter of course, tried to wrap itself around the back of his skull.
"Gah eee aaap OO!" was all he could manage until finally the furry little mountaineer danced atop the ante pile at the table. The cherry atop this wonderful little mess.
Syfe, ever the fountain of odd wisdom and sense, fell out of her chair laughing. The other men at the table didn't. Jargis, in particular began to reach for the dagger in his belt.
"So help me Brendur." He growled "Iffin this is one oh yer tricks..."
Before Brendur had time to look the picture of innocence (something he rarely got to experience), the elf approached the table.
" Gentlemen and uh, woman...my ferret."
The greeting was pleasant enough, and humorous, but something about this elf urged Brendur to bolt for it. She smiled, but used all the wrong muscle to do it. She deferred to pleasantries, but her hands were well under her cloak. She was very pretty, but then so was a shot made from 200 yards.
The rat coiled in Brendur's chest urged him to run for it, but there was a very large pile of coin on the table.
He bit back on his instinct for flight, folded up his cards to lay facedown, leaned back in his chair and let an impish grin slide onto his own features.
"And a fine ferret he is. Tell me, is he gaurdin our gold? Or plannin to abscond with it? Or are ye one oh those strange elves I've heard about what uses ferret's as currency?"
Syfe had finished gathering her chuckles on the floor, righting herself she rested her chin on the table, leveling her strange blindfolded gaze with that of the ferret on the table. Tilting her head to the side she rested one hand near the pot and the sinewy creature.
"Hello little ribbon of fluff, teeth, n'trouble...hunter oh the ssssscarlet band, treader of the longways path." Her hand stands up on it's spidery fingers, then raises on it's elbow as a series of chitters and clicks issues from her mouth. Her hand swings back and forth twisting to the side, mimicing the movements of the creature.
"Little dragon on it's pile oh shimmer, don't grow too many scales, on the city oer the lake, we slay dragons."
She smiles, reaching forward to stroke Siohb.
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Post by Tallaith on Jun 30, 2010 11:25:29 GMT -5
Of course no disaster would be complete without a ferret. ((Best line of play-by-post RP I've ever read!)) Valisilwyn was focused on one minute point which alone was still in the now-roiling common room. The gold coin, her last coin, was sitting atop the pile of other coins the pig-whacking Woman was about to take as her own! She didn't see the blades, hear the raised and sharp voices, sense the rising tension around her as she forced her way to the table in awkward lunges and leaps. Five paces from the card-players, a semi-sober Man (to his credit) wrapped his arms around her waist in a fierce hug to try to still her forward momentum. Vali was having none of it. With a feral shriek, she thrashed her legs wildly and twisted in his grip to face him, lashing at him with one small fist. The punch connected, though not with enough force to cause real harm, but the Man was surprised enough to drop her with no further ceremony to the floor. She was on her feet again and almost ON the table before she could draw another breath. Her eyes locked on the only thing she truly saw now: her coin. She thrust a finger out at the pile of money. "MINE!"
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Post by fellrod on Jun 30, 2010 15:07:57 GMT -5
All Fellrod had really wanted was an ale and a bit of news of events in Angmar. He had certainly not come to the common room in search of trouble, but it seemed he might have found it.
He didn’t know the people wearing Ceallian’s cloak pins well. But he knew that they were friends by virtue of the pins, and watching Valisilwyn still pushing and shoving her way toward the table where the furry thief now sat before the surprised card players, he suspected that trouble might be near at hand.
Sheathing his blade, Fellrod pulled his cloak about him and stepped toward the scene of excitement a short distance away. As he went he craned his neck and painted a smile on his face as though he were simply trying to get a better view of what might turn out to be a good fight. And in reality, that is what he fervently hoped would be the extent of his involvement. Still, he pushed forward and edged around the room so as to be behind Valisilwyn.
As he did so a man grabbed the elf maiden by her waist. She shrieked and spun thrashing out at the startled drunkard who dropped his hold long enough for her to turn again toward the card table and her goal. As the man made to reach for her a second time, Fellrod caught him by the arm and pulled him around to gaze for a moment into the startled face. Like many of the men of Bree, this man was not particularly tall, and the golden haired elf stood half a head taller.
Fortunately, the man’s intent was more bawdy than sinister. He began mumbling apologies and Fellrod loosed his grip and pushed on past.
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Post by ciaran on Jul 1, 2010 0:34:05 GMT -5
Sometimes it just can't be helped, something striking your funny bone. In this case it threaded like a vein of tinkling silver through rough onyx. The laugh bubbled out past her lips, the lilt surprising even herself as then a cough was summoned to sober up. A crook of a smile formed as Ciaran found Syfe's words amusing, and more so because no one she had met in all her travels and years had spoken to Siohb as she herself does.
" How very apt! He likes to think he's a Dragon Lord, my shoulder his mountain and my coin purse his treasure. "
Nodding did she then realize that the wily grinning man, who held a mischievous look that seemed more practiced than anything, had spoken to her.
" I do apologize, Siohb is a creature all his own and a treasure hunter of vermin renown. "
A glare caught the man easing teh dagger from his belt, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder carefully, applying a very firm squeeze.
" I think we are past using blades, still yours, hm? This was a mishap that I take full responsibility form. "
Sucking in a deep breath did she will herself to not shake like a win-blown leaf with all sorts of flighty nerves. It was what happened when you kept yourself in the wilds for years at a time, only the animals for companionship, the wind and water the only voices that fill your dreams. Also the small side note of killing most people she met rather than befriending them, but such was the life and the trade she plied. This last thought made her exhale audibly, breaking this troubled Elf from her dark thoughts that was soon completely shattered.
" MINE! "
Glancing at all those around, did she gingerly heft the gold piece from the pile, pinched between thumb and fore-finger as if dirty was it outstretched towards the obviously enraged Valisilwyn.
" Uh, here. " It was spoken rather oddly, as her sights quickly caught the moving figure if Fellrod. Instantly did she tense and the slightly at ease look vanished like a puff of smoke.
Now Siohb seemed perfectly content to sit near the seemingly sightless maid, allowing her fingers to stroke the cream and black mottled coat. Watching her pet's reaction, Ciaran took on an instant liking to the strange Syfe. Ugh, time to wise up! Mind began to click and whir, as she mentally took a step back from the situation to pick out any fine details, take stock of any dangers. The same silver motifs were styled on the clasp of the tall and nimble Elentir, the sun-touched human and his strange companion, even the banshee wailing Elf woman had it attached to her as if proud. Turning her head slightly to glare at Rathiol, did she notice the same symbol. Facing the table once more, those shifting orbs now a delicate shade of dove gray. What are these people playing at?
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Post by Tallaith on Jul 1, 2010 10:10:36 GMT -5
((The perfect place for an entrance!))
The lass crumpled the letter and crammed it in her pocket with a slight frown. She chided herself beneath her breath; this was as close to a temper tantrum as she ever allowed herself to come.
Still no news! I shall call myself a widow if I hear nothing by the end of the month! Ceallian bit her lip, blushing at the unwelcome, but very faintly appealing, thought.
She sighed, steadying herself with the breath, and turned to climb back into the saddle of her war-mare. A fat raindrop splattered on the toe of her boot just as she fit it into the stirrup and for the second time in as many minutes she whispered a curse. Closing her eyes, she smoothed her rusty hair back from her face and tried to compose herself. She was as brittle as spun glass stretched into threaded webbing; it was not like her to say such foul things twice in a week, let alone in the span of a few moments.
I should rest. After all, I am standing right in front of an inn.
Nob, the Hobbit who tended Barliman's kitchens and stable, was almost immediately at Cay's elbow, as if he sensed her decision with some uncanny Hobbit ability tall-folk would never dream of. With a smile that was only a touch forced, Ceallian passed him the reins of her horse and let her hooded cloak fall back from her face as she climbed the steps to the entrance of the Pony.
A nice hot supper that I did not cook, and perhaps a few mugs of stout, if no one is around to call me a silly girl for getting tipsy, and then a feather bed in a room with sweet new rushes on the floor... That is what I need to feel like myself again! I have traveled too much lately, and perhaps Valtias is right: I should just stay at home with my family and wait for Edan to return.
The familiar coil of seething tension began to wind upon itself again in her chest and Ceallian shook her head fiercely as if she'd shake the thoughts right from her head. She took one more huge breath as she stepped into the inn. She was ready for a quiet evening by a hearth she didn't have to sweep out in the morning.
Though what she found as soon as her eyes adjusted to the warm amberlight of the common room was precisely the opposite. Her jaw dropped and at the same time her hand moved to the mace at her hip, hidden neatly beneath her heavy cloak.
This situation could very easily become one she would regret stepping into.
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Post by rathiol on Jul 1, 2010 12:39:35 GMT -5
Ever did he wonder at what caused such dramatic differences in people, even those supposedly that called themselves elves. Rivendell must have grown to be an odd place to say the least in the past decades. He turned at watched his partner as she wrangled not her animal, but the people around it to recall the pet. Coupled with the elven woman, whom he was quite sure was a loony, diving over tables and chasing after rodents, he was ready to be back in the woods. He eased past the table of gamblers and gamers, glanced down at the ferret, brushed past the hand that garnished a hidden sword and made his way to the door. Why the Lady and the Lord had chosen such an..interesting person to team up with was beyond him. He only hoped that their wisdom and foresight would be enough to keep him sane.
Outside the inn, he unhitched the bridle of his chestnut gelding and with a grace bereft of the other races, swung up in the saddle, guiding Lendior back out of the city. Once free from the incessant buzz and raucous of Men, he drew back the hood of his cloak and let the cool night breeze wash over him.
He reached a wooded copse and settled between a pair of ashen trees. He laid atop his bedroll and let the sweet embrace of sleep grab him firmly.
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Post by brendur on Jul 1, 2010 13:10:37 GMT -5
Brendur's hand slipped into his otter-skin coat the moment that Vali was manhandled, fingers winding around the handle of the silvered dagger he kept there. He sincerely hoped the man who grabbed her would wise up to the fact that he was surrounded by her fellows before he had to resort to something irreversible.
He thanked Lady Luck for Fellrod, who turned the man away with a glare and a shake of his head. His attention turned back to the table in time to see the fox-like elf deal with Jargis. He was at heart a farmer and the woman's grip told him all he needed to know, if it came to violence, she would prove the more acquainted.
He began to release his hold on his dagger, but then the elf tossed the gold piece from the pile to Vali. All bluster and indignation he stood up, jabbing a finger at the woman. "Oy! You can't just dig coins out of our pot! We ain't the bloody holding exchange here!"
"Jargis, sit down." It wasn't a shout, certainly not carrying the volume that Jargis sported, but it found the space in all the noise that it needed to be heard by everyone. The words seemed to slither out Brendur's mouth and throw every switch in Jargis' mind associated with leg power. The man's body sat, his head still wondering what the hell was going on. Brendur nodded once he was seated, digging in one of the myriad pockets on his coat and unearthing a gold piece with the white city's seal stamped upon it. "I'll cover the piece, let's jest finish the game."
Jargis' mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. His suspicions raised by the sudden show of generosity by a man whose reputation was less than sparkling, he voiced his opinion. "Strikes me as a bit too convenient all this happening soon as you start getting bad hands. How am I to know this ain't all some sham?"
Brendur blinked, examining Jargis and wondering just how silly a man could get, but he already knew the answer to that question. Shaking his head Brendur couldn't help but grin. "A sham...really? Well alright then you've caught me, the truth's out, the ferret's got two High Queen's stuck up his sleeves."
It took a moment but the men at the table caught the sarcasm, laughter starting out as titters, finally breaking into peals and chuckles. Jargis just looked sour, still eying Brendur, whose attention had just turned to the door of the Pony. He waved to Ceallian and did his best to look innocent.
"Eve on ye lass, jest in time to catch a friendly game oh cards endin..."
Syfe turned her head up from her silent conversation with Siohb, tickling him under the chin. " Ye missed the flying ferrets, prancing vixens, n'the little shiney bit's dancing on fingers...quietly...quietly."
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Post by ciaran on Jul 2, 2010 0:41:05 GMT -5
There were idiots, naturally born daft and a few straws short of a haystack. Then there were those that did idiotic things, like get in the face of someone who would rip your throat out and then spit out on the ground and laugh. It was only by the good graces and actions of the ' Joker ' that the blunt faced half-wit that was apparently named Jargis, did not have his finger turned back to his wrist and arm dislocated from his shoulder.
" It wasn't yours to begin with, you pock marked nit wit. "
Taking a step back, did she turn to ease back towards the shadowy, reclusive table. Cloak was drawn tighter about herself, adjusting the raven designed clasp at her throat. The rosey cheeked maid moving about now that the clamor seemed to have died, bounced towards Ciaran at a beckon of her leathered finger.
" If you a stew in the back with a nice loaf of bread, I would gladly like to try it. "
She then handed the girl a gold piece, who quickly went to retrieve the supper. There was a pause, what in the name of Aulë and the seven dwarves had she just done! Friendly? HER?! This place was a curse. Seating herself once more did the awkward elf precede to watch the happenings about her. Rathiol was gone, slipped outside like a wraith, damn him and his light, beautiful, dazzling hair. A hand grabbed the ends of her own tumbled mane and turned it this way and that, the soft flickering glow of golden lamplight sent soft blue highlights coursing through the raven hued strands. Nose wrinkled and she turned her attentions to Fellrod who was of the same blonde ilk. Damn them. Those now returned turquoise orbs glistened having bled away from the silver touch before. Interesting was the connection found linked between the new arrival and the other who sported the same pattern of cloak pins.
Waving them off lightly with a change of thought did she find her traveling pack forgotten atop the chair to her left. Wrapped in silk and velvet did it come, lifted carefully as if a beloved babe, the protective layers were pulled back to reveal a violin. The wood was of a whitened birch, the strings a thread of purest silver that held any light that struck it. The bow was of the same lean bark, hair finally combed and picked then woven to extract the sweetest of chords. It was set atop the table as if allowing it a chance to breath before being plunged back into the depths of her bag. The food was brought before Ciaran, a streaming hearty rabbit stew equipped with vegetables of a good variety and a loaf of warm bread to scoop it all up with. It beat having to eat meagerly on the road, the first few bites she savored.
Siohb was content to be the center of attention. Beady eyes watched Ceallian before a chirp sprang forth in greeting followed by him slipping atop the friendly scratcher's shouder. Those eyes flew to Brendur as if waiting for something exciting to commence!
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Post by brendur on Jul 2, 2010 21:54:39 GMT -5
Brendur was momentarily distracted by the appearance of the violin, a fine lacquered specimen of craftsmanship. The kind they sawed on the docks of Esgaroth on foggy mornings, letting their tunes drift out over the lake stroking joy and sorrow along their way. Curious that a cold creature like the elf would carry such a thing. He made himself a little promise as his eyes trailed over the well cared for instrument, by the end of the day he'd get her to play a tune.
"Brendur! The game!"
His attention snapped back to the table eying the men about it once more, even the more level headed were looking a bit wilder with the end of the game so close. Jargis fidgeted in his seat, looking like he might hop over the table at any time to fetch Brendur a blow.
"Right..." mused Brendur "well since yer so set on me bein a cheat...let's set yer mind at ease mmmm?"
Laying a hand on the deck he slid it towards the bewildered Jargis.
"Ye've all drawn yer lots fer this round, and I've got one card left to draw. Go on...shuffle the deck to yer satisfaction."
Blinking past his confusion, Jargis shrugged and reached for the deck.
"It's your funeral Brendur..."
Quick as a wink Brendur's hand snaked out and caught him by the wrist, with his other hand he pulled the man's sleeve up to his elbow, a shower of face cards raining down on the ante pile as he did so.
"Less my funeral, more yer lynchin ole Jargis."
Brendur wanted to immortalize the look on Jargis's face in stone, stupidity drove a cart head on into comprehension, and the wreck was fantastic.
"Tho...bu...neve...THOSE AREN'T MINE!"
The thief nodded, keeping his grip on his wrist. "True enough...which is why it's called cheating...takin what isn't yers."
Pure murder worked it's way into Jargis's face, but as the other men at the table rose to their feet, it gave way to fear. Brendur let his wrist go just as the man bolted for the door, feet flying on wings of fright as he dashed out into the street, the table's players hard on his heels. All save for Brendur and Boreland.
Boreland raised a brow, then carefully began to extract his coins from the pot. "S'funny I'd have never taken Jargis for a cheat, sour old bastard to be sure, but never a cheat."
"S'funny how that works sometimes" intoned Brendur as he swept his and Jargis' shares into his pouch, claiming a look of innocence that was too good to be true. "Them's what point the fingers is often enough the ones with their fingers in the pot. Could ye see the others get their shares back? Frightful business this...hope it doesn't throw them off a game next week."
It was an odd look on Boreland's face as he studied the Dalinian, finally he chuckled and gathered the other shares. "Sure thing, same time next week." that said the hunter left.
Brendur gave himself a few seconds to enjoy the victory, smiling and looking to his sister who was giggling from the way that Siohb's fur and cold nose tickled her ear, seemingly oblivious to the going on's of the bar.
"His fur's tickle..." she tittered" Like Pangur Ban."
"Well don't get too attached to him, his owner twill want him back."
Blinking Brendur looked about at the inn, which was still seeming to hold it's breath. He grinned wide at those that wore the silver pin.
"Well? We've a table and coin to spend...why don't ye all join us?"
As the waitress swung by he gently grapped her elbow and whispered to her. "Could ye tell that elf with the raven hair in the corner she's welcome to dine with us...so long as she brings that violin."
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Post by Tallaith on Jul 3, 2010 0:13:32 GMT -5
Two possible courses of action flashed through Cay's mind, each as valid as the other. By nature she was a diplomat, a lover of peacable solutions and hand-clasping after harsh words spoken in haste.
But one cannot always act as their true selves would. Life does not forgive the inability to adapt; the Valar do not give blessings that are all sweet and none bitter. Sometimes the only path to choose is the darkest one, the rocky track through cancerous trees and whispers of ill-growing things better left to the shadows.
But this evening Ceallian was blessed with the harder road, the path that was full of light and friendship. Her companions moved together almost as if they were separate strands of notes woven into one song.
She exhaled softly, flicking her skirts to cover her weapon, and let her traveling bag slip off one shoulder and her cloak fall from the other. She stoked the brilliance behind her smile as she nodded in turn to each of her Kinsmen; this was the most effortless song of herself she played and the one that was closest to honesty. This evening Ceallian would be the purity of demure femininity, all sugar and honey and breathless agreement. The tone of the tavern was too volatile for harsher notes of voice or up-tempo gestures.
She found a seat on a stool behind Brendur and Syfe, completing a triangle that would prove to be undefeatable in the average tavern brawl, should one arise. She folded her ankles and tucked them beneath her chair. Her eyes flashed beneath her lashes as she measured and weighed everyone in the room as best she could. Her attention settled the longest on the dark Elf lass and she offered her a gentle half-smile as she settled in to watch.
Valisilwyn took the tiny pause in events as Ceallian found her place to cram her coin into her pocket. She glared at everyone at the table from behind her ragged hair as she began back-tracking, too wary to just turn around and flee to her own corner of the room. She yelped awkwardly as she stumbled blindly back into someone quite unyeilding; she turned around slowly, as if dreading meeting another unpleasant thief tonight.
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Post by fellrod on Jul 4, 2010 11:14:06 GMT -5
The next few minutes ticked by in the sort of swirling confusion of actions related and unrelated that seems protracted when experienced, but to have flashed by when considered afterward. Fellrod’s hand drifted again toward his sword through several tense moments that centered around the one called Jargis, but finally the swirl seemed to subside and still no hard blows had fallen. Jargis was gone, pursued by several of those he had cheated, the dark haired stranger had returned Valisilwyn’s coin, though she had not retrieved her pet before returning to her own table.
“Well? We’ve a table and coin to spend… why don’t ye join us?”
Brendur’s voice broke the tense mood, and Fellrod then noticed that somewhere in it all, Ceallian had arrived and was now taking a seat in response to the invitation. But suddenly, to his surprise, Valisilwyn, who was between himself and the table, began suddenly to back away as if in fear.
Fellrod, too surprised to move in time, simply watched as the elf maiden backed up a step and thumped into him then turned with a start. He met her wild gaze with a smile and quickly lifted his hands, palm out. “Friend!” was all he said, remembering her strange preference for one word greetings. And with that he stepped smoothly aside, but at the same time he gestured back toward the table. “We’re friends, Valisilwyn.”
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Post by Tallaith on Jul 4, 2010 15:54:09 GMT -5
((I actually posted my original reply once but Proboards ate it! So here we go again.))
Vali immediately recognized the Elf's voice and her expression blossomed into a huge, sunny grin. This was the stranger who spoke so kindly to her during the "spider pants" incident, when she climbed a tree and found herself directly in a nest of thousands of baby spiders.
"Hello!"
She glanced back over her shoulder to the folks gathered around the cards and turned back to the Elf to lean up on her tiptoes and whisper, "What's wrong with those people?"
Ceallian smiled faintly at this simple exchange. Vali was improving her social niceties daily, though from what the Woman had heard, the Elven lass's taste for violence was just as ravenous as before. She was grateful at least that Valisilwyn had not started a full-on brawl in the Prancing Pony yet this evening.
Cay settled back to watch the events unfolding in speculative silence, a demure smile pasted on her lips. Her eyes never stopped scanning the occupants of the common room, though she found her attention drawn always back to the dark Elven lass with the violin. The minstrel had never actually seen one, though she'd heard tales of them and their cousin, the viol. She was fascinated with both the instrument and the potential player.
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Post by ciaran on Jul 5, 2010 19:36:03 GMT -5
(( I'll have a response coming up shortly!! ))
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Post by hjorgim on Jul 6, 2010 18:26:31 GMT -5
((*Leaps in to grab a spot before a certain dwarf wanders too far from the stage* Just a quick in and out, work around me, I may be a day or two, sorry. Hjor's going to enter (sodden with mud and missing a boot I think) and take a room very shortly after Jargis leaves. He is wearing no pin.))
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Post by fellrod on Jul 7, 2010 11:25:20 GMT -5
“Hello!”
Fellrod was momentarily taken aback by the suddenness of Valisilwyn’s change, one moment almost seeming like an animal trapped and seeking escape, the next a smiling elf-maiden happy to meet a friend. And he was almost as startled by her question, “What’s wrong with those people?”
The Warden returned her smile as best he could while considering an answer. “They are a bit confused.”
He decided that was a good short answer, and he watched for a moment as Valisilwyn processed it, then sensing the slight change in her face that told him she might be forming another question he added, “They had a lot of things happen in a very short amount of time. But they are our friends.”
Again, Fellrod felt he could almost see the wheels turning through her eyes, and after a moment he continued. “Brendur wants us to sit with them. Will you join me?”
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