InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
Ada gasps slightly and sits straight in her chair. The quaver in her voice returns, and Darian can tell she is torn between fear and exhaustion.
Exhaustion wins. She slumps back down, reaches back, and takes her mask off. She extends her mask out to Darian, not even looking up. "It's just a stupid superstition anyway," she drones.
Ada is young. Her face has a light dusting of the freckles of childhood across her cheeks. Her skin is fair, as smooth and pale as maplewood. Her cheeks are round, but just gaining the angularity of maturity. She must be what, seventeen? Eighteen? No, gnomes live long, would she be older?
In any case, the events of the night have been hard on her. Her eyes are red with worry, out of tears. She has been terrified, awake all night, and her eyebrows knit together softly, more out of enervation than determination.
Her voice cracks as she adds, "Is there anything else you want, sirs?"
Exhaustion wins. She slumps back down, reaches back, and takes her mask off. She extends her mask out to Darian, not even looking up. "It's just a stupid superstition anyway," she drones.
Ada is young. Her face has a light dusting of the freckles of childhood across her cheeks. Her skin is fair, as smooth and pale as maplewood. Her cheeks are round, but just gaining the angularity of maturity. She must be what, seventeen? Eighteen? No, gnomes live long, would she be older?
In any case, the events of the night have been hard on her. Her eyes are red with worry, out of tears. She has been terrified, awake all night, and her eyebrows knit together softly, more out of enervation than determination.
Her voice cracks as she adds, "Is there anything else you want, sirs?"