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Gaming W/Jemal: Legends Chapter 1
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<blockquote data-quote="ethandrew" data-source="post: 4789134" data-attributes="member: 17456"><p><em>So this is why I was brought here, out of my solitude, once more to save the world,</em> Adamas thought to himself. The tall elf stood rigid, his extraordinarily long ears poking through his dark brown hair, pointing up and out. He looked at the others assembled with deep blue eyes, knowing this was no simple excursion, he could tell that by the armament each possessed. He had two long swords, one on each hip, that looked much too long for his size, and albeit tall and muscular for an elf, he was still diminutive compared to the average man. If one did not know who this elf was, and admittedly no one here but the old man did, Adamas would assume he appeared a green boy, on his first trip with the heirloom sword he one day hoped to grow into, except this green boy had two, and in his seventeenth decade he was no more a boy than the earth below his feet his. And in his possession these over-long swords were not merely heirlooms to be wildly wielded but rather extensions of his body proper.</p><p></p><p>It has long since been when the elf last ventured forth in search of glory and riches. In his quiet reverie of his art he has remained for near fourty years, but now, in an apparent dire hour, he had been sought and named champion of his people and publicly Adamas begrudgingly accepted, but privately the elf relished the opportunity to once again face death in the face. And when the moment was most opportune, cut that face so brutally and severely it dare never stare again.</p><p></p><p>And so with a zeal and eagerness not felt for quite some time, Adamas lips cracked and a voice raspy from lack of use issued forth, <span style="color: yellowgreen">"I, for one, do not wish to rest."</span> Content with his statement, the stoic elf slipped back into his internal musings, large ears attentive even if his mind raced with excitement.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ethandrew, post: 4789134, member: 17456"] [i]So this is why I was brought here, out of my solitude, once more to save the world,[/i] Adamas thought to himself. The tall elf stood rigid, his extraordinarily long ears poking through his dark brown hair, pointing up and out. He looked at the others assembled with deep blue eyes, knowing this was no simple excursion, he could tell that by the armament each possessed. He had two long swords, one on each hip, that looked much too long for his size, and albeit tall and muscular for an elf, he was still diminutive compared to the average man. If one did not know who this elf was, and admittedly no one here but the old man did, Adamas would assume he appeared a green boy, on his first trip with the heirloom sword he one day hoped to grow into, except this green boy had two, and in his seventeenth decade he was no more a boy than the earth below his feet his. And in his possession these over-long swords were not merely heirlooms to be wildly wielded but rather extensions of his body proper. It has long since been when the elf last ventured forth in search of glory and riches. In his quiet reverie of his art he has remained for near fourty years, but now, in an apparent dire hour, he had been sought and named champion of his people and publicly Adamas begrudgingly accepted, but privately the elf relished the opportunity to once again face death in the face. And when the moment was most opportune, cut that face so brutally and severely it dare never stare again. And so with a zeal and eagerness not felt for quite some time, Adamas lips cracked and a voice raspy from lack of use issued forth, [color=yellowgreen]"I, for one, do not wish to rest."[/color] Content with his statement, the stoic elf slipped back into his internal musings, large ears attentive even if his mind raced with excitement. [/QUOTE]
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