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<blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 1717191" data-attributes="member: 13681"><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The girl blinks and smiles weakly at Mustafah’s offer. She has had very little to drink and even less to eat. She seems about to reply when the scholar’s outburst brings her to her feet. She rushes to his side at the table and peers confusedly at the dark, nearly black, wood. She looks back and forth rapidly between the scholar’s face and the table, confusion creasing her brow. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Kennet winces as the crockery crashes to the floor; he swiftly collects the plates at Slate’s feet and others stacking up on benches and nearby tables. He flinches away from an outflung arm as the scholar whirls by and moves off near the door to the kitchen just as it opens.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Sharra hustles back into the common room, her brow creased with a scowl, “Now you all, I won’t ha—“ she pauses finger in mid-wag as she watches the scholar caper around the room, “—ve any… one... Kennet, what in Jondal’s name is going on here?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The assistant’s shoulders slump and she sighs, “I apologize for my Master’s behavior,” her gaze follows the man across the room, but her voice is pitched to those gathered around the table. “He has been… erratic for some time now. It’s the work--” Her voice breaks and her hands clench and unclench, “It’s killing him.” Tears well in her eyes as she speaks, “He’s so close. But it’s… it’s <em>eating</em> him.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The grizzled man reels back to the table planting his hands far apart, “What did I see?” He peers at Slate, “This,” He waves his hand dramatically over the table, which for all his theatrics looks pretty much like a table. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 9px"><strong>Slate and Mustafah:</strong> [SPOILER]As the man’s hand passes over the table, runic script carved into the surface of the table appears and disappears swiftly.[/SPOILER]</span> </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">”What do I want?” He smiles down at the dwarf, eyes looking at some point far beyond the sturdy dwarf’s head and nods. “I want you all to place your left hands on this table, palms down. Quickly now. No gloves.” His voice has a bark of authority to it. He counts the people at the table and turns to Stumbin, “All of you!” </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">As eyes turn toward Stumbin, the stocky man is staring out of the north facing window, jaw hanging open, face ashen, lips moving in a whispered mantra over and over as he clasps the iron symbol around his neck.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“…is my shield, I will not falter… …Her will is my shield, I will not falter… Her will is my shield, I will not falter…”</span></p><p> </p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">What do you do?</span></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sparky, post: 1717191, member: 13681"] [font=Verdana]The girl blinks and smiles weakly at Mustafah’s offer. She has had very little to drink and even less to eat. She seems about to reply when the scholar’s outburst brings her to her feet. She rushes to his side at the table and peers confusedly at the dark, nearly black, wood. She looks back and forth rapidly between the scholar’s face and the table, confusion creasing her brow. [/font] [font=Verdana]Kennet winces as the crockery crashes to the floor; he swiftly collects the plates at Slate’s feet and others stacking up on benches and nearby tables. He flinches away from an outflung arm as the scholar whirls by and moves off near the door to the kitchen just as it opens.[/font] [font=Verdana]Sharra hustles back into the common room, her brow creased with a scowl, “Now you all, I won’t ha—“ she pauses finger in mid-wag as she watches the scholar caper around the room, “—ve any… one... Kennet, what in Jondal’s name is going on here?”[/font] [font=Verdana]The assistant’s shoulders slump and she sighs, “I apologize for my Master’s behavior,” her gaze follows the man across the room, but her voice is pitched to those gathered around the table. “He has been… erratic for some time now. It’s the work--” Her voice breaks and her hands clench and unclench, “It’s killing him.” Tears well in her eyes as she speaks, “He’s so close. But it’s… it’s [i]eating[/i] him.”[/font] [font=Verdana]The grizzled man reels back to the table planting his hands far apart, “What did I see?” He peers at Slate, “This,” He waves his hand dramatically over the table, which for all his theatrics looks pretty much like a table. [/font] [font=Verdana][size=1][b]Slate and Mustafah:[/b] [SPOILER]As the man’s hand passes over the table, runic script carved into the surface of the table appears and disappears swiftly.[/SPOILER][/size] [/font] [font=Verdana]”What do I want?” He smiles down at the dwarf, eyes looking at some point far beyond the sturdy dwarf’s head and nods. “I want you all to place your left hands on this table, palms down. Quickly now. No gloves.” His voice has a bark of authority to it. He counts the people at the table and turns to Stumbin, “All of you!” [/font] [font=Verdana]As eyes turn toward Stumbin, the stocky man is staring out of the north facing window, jaw hanging open, face ashen, lips moving in a whispered mantra over and over as he clasps the iron symbol around his neck.[/font] [font=Verdana]“…is my shield, I will not falter… …Her will is my shield, I will not falter… Her will is my shield, I will not falter…”[/font] [i][font=Verdana]What do you do?[/font][/i] [/QUOTE]
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