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Doom of the Savage Kings
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<blockquote data-quote="CanadienneBacon" data-source="post: 6524059" data-attributes="member: 11146"><p>A shadow darkened the tavern door. Alois, the town cobbler stood in the entryway, and peered with a grunt into dark interior of the inn. At 6'2", Alois had to duck to avoid banging into the door lintel. His shoulders shrank inward, too. <em>Damn doors, always too small, too narrow. Just like beds. Not Maisie's hayloft, though.</em> Alois smiled. Once inside, Alois shuffled forward toward the bar, and plunked himself down. He put a pair of copper pieces on the bar and hoped a draft of something came his way soon.</p><p></p><p>Across the bar, alone at a table meant for four, an elf with gold hair sat and eyed Llore while the young man re-told the tale of Ulfheonar. The elf smirked, waiting for the young Llore to inevitably make an error in the telling. <em>We'll see if he gets the telling of it right. Most skip the berserker part.</em> The elf sat quietly, listening intently to Llore's story.</p><p></p><p>The door opened yet again and closed quietly, admitting Lizt, a small young townswoman with a petite frame and homely features. The word in town was that Lizt had been engaged to Alois, who stood her up at the temple after a drunken tumble with Maisie, a local dairyman's daughter. Lizt stood just inside the doorway, uncertain. Hair the color of mud was shorn short, and brown eyes drank in the inside of the bar. The odor of hemp followed the young woman, perhaps the only remarkable thing about her. Lizt eyed Alois's large frame perched at the bar and frowned. She opted for a table as far away from Alois as possible, which unfortunately left her with the elf. <span style="color: purple">"Can I sit here?"</span> Lizt stood in front of Gratien's table and shifted from one foot to the other, nervous. Gratien looked surprised. No one had ever asked to sit with him before. A long beat passed before Gratien inclined his head and moved his longbow out of the way. Lizt looked grateful and allowed herself a small smile. <span style="color: purple">"Thanks."</span> Not bothering to order, Lizt turned to see what had so enraptured the elf's attention, her eyes lighting on Llore. The pair sat in silence, listening.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="CanadienneBacon, post: 6524059, member: 11146"] A shadow darkened the tavern door. Alois, the town cobbler stood in the entryway, and peered with a grunt into dark interior of the inn. At 6'2", Alois had to duck to avoid banging into the door lintel. His shoulders shrank inward, too. [I]Damn doors, always too small, too narrow. Just like beds. Not Maisie's hayloft, though.[/I] Alois smiled. Once inside, Alois shuffled forward toward the bar, and plunked himself down. He put a pair of copper pieces on the bar and hoped a draft of something came his way soon. Across the bar, alone at a table meant for four, an elf with gold hair sat and eyed Llore while the young man re-told the tale of Ulfheonar. The elf smirked, waiting for the young Llore to inevitably make an error in the telling. [I]We'll see if he gets the telling of it right. Most skip the berserker part.[/I] The elf sat quietly, listening intently to Llore's story. The door opened yet again and closed quietly, admitting Lizt, a small young townswoman with a petite frame and homely features. The word in town was that Lizt had been engaged to Alois, who stood her up at the temple after a drunken tumble with Maisie, a local dairyman's daughter. Lizt stood just inside the doorway, uncertain. Hair the color of mud was shorn short, and brown eyes drank in the inside of the bar. The odor of hemp followed the young woman, perhaps the only remarkable thing about her. Lizt eyed Alois's large frame perched at the bar and frowned. She opted for a table as far away from Alois as possible, which unfortunately left her with the elf. [color=purple]"Can I sit here?"[/color] Lizt stood in front of Gratien's table and shifted from one foot to the other, nervous. Gratien looked surprised. No one had ever asked to sit with him before. A long beat passed before Gratien inclined his head and moved his longbow out of the way. Lizt looked grateful and allowed herself a small smile. [color=purple]"Thanks."[/color] Not bothering to order, Lizt turned to see what had so enraptured the elf's attention, her eyes lighting on Llore. The pair sat in silence, listening. [/QUOTE]
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