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Dark Days in Sion - Act 2: Scene 5
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<blockquote data-quote="97mg" data-source="post: 6762601" data-attributes="member: 6799460"><p><strong>Wrenwil</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #B22222">~Who would have guessed? An Inn in the middle of nowhere, and with a name like that I'm assuming nobody gets any sleep around here.~</span></p><p></p><p>It had been a long walk but the old Cleric still had plenty of gusto left in him, and at least with night came a brief refrain from the baking heat of day. Unlike the earlier stage of his journey, he had companions now, a mixed bag of unlikely strangers striking a path together. In normal circumstances he would have stayed away from this kind of gathering, but strangely, out here, it felt safer... almost good to be one of them.</p><p></p><p>As the torches approached Wrenwil cringed, and then again when the youngling revealed himself and his unusual chains. <span style="color: #B22222">~Kiinky and clinky eh?~</span> Then though, this stranger started addressing Ordechai on a first name basis in a friendly tone. <span style="color: #B22222">~Phew.~</span></p><p></p><p>Standing at the rear in the torchlight as the knight "did his thing", Wrenwil wondered what he must look like in the flickering flames. He still needed a shave, that was for sure, a week of grey growth was now protruding from his chin. He'd been copping a fair bit of sunlight too, causing his once pale skin to burn a touch. The tops of his hands were peeling, as was an annoying spot on the back of his neck. He stood there firm in his humble linen clothes, a sweaty layer of leather beneath, and took his ragged woolen hat off for a moment and wiped his brow. As always, he was holding his walking-stick and had a bloody great pack on his back. This alone might have been the tell-tale sign, that this elderly human's body was far from giving up the ghost. Beneath it all he seemed to be lean, agile and hard as iron.</p><p></p><p>As instructed by Ordechai, Wrenwil kept his eyes peeled and his mouth shut... for now.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="97mg, post: 6762601, member: 6799460"] [b]Wrenwil[/b] [COLOR="#B22222"]~Who would have guessed? An Inn in the middle of nowhere, and with a name like that I'm assuming nobody gets any sleep around here.~[/COLOR] It had been a long walk but the old Cleric still had plenty of gusto left in him, and at least with night came a brief refrain from the baking heat of day. Unlike the earlier stage of his journey, he had companions now, a mixed bag of unlikely strangers striking a path together. In normal circumstances he would have stayed away from this kind of gathering, but strangely, out here, it felt safer... almost good to be one of them. As the torches approached Wrenwil cringed, and then again when the youngling revealed himself and his unusual chains. [COLOR="#B22222"]~Kiinky and clinky eh?~[/COLOR] Then though, this stranger started addressing Ordechai on a first name basis in a friendly tone. [COLOR="#B22222"]~Phew.~[/COLOR] Standing at the rear in the torchlight as the knight "did his thing", Wrenwil wondered what he must look like in the flickering flames. He still needed a shave, that was for sure, a week of grey growth was now protruding from his chin. He'd been copping a fair bit of sunlight too, causing his once pale skin to burn a touch. The tops of his hands were peeling, as was an annoying spot on the back of his neck. He stood there firm in his humble linen clothes, a sweaty layer of leather beneath, and took his ragged woolen hat off for a moment and wiped his brow. As always, he was holding his walking-stick and had a bloody great pack on his back. This alone might have been the tell-tale sign, that this elderly human's body was far from giving up the ghost. Beneath it all he seemed to be lean, agile and hard as iron. As instructed by Ordechai, Wrenwil kept his eyes peeled and his mouth shut... for now. [/QUOTE]
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