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Battle at Harkon Manor
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<blockquote data-quote="Scratched_back" data-source="post: 5308557" data-attributes="member: 16262"><p>Furrowing his brow momentarily as he decoded the Dwarf's odd dialect in his mind, Elms again took a moment to look around the battlefield. Within fifty feet of him he could see dead Treylor, dead villagers, plenty of walking-wounded. He had quite literally walked into the middle of the largest battle he had ever witnessed. As the adrenaline left his system Elms suddenly felt quite drained. Despite being far from a novice with a blade, the Treylor soldier he had faced had not seemed worried and had parried away his blows with ease. Shuddering with a sudden burst of anger, Elms silently vowed to work on his swordsmanship. This would not happen again.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: yellow">"Stay with me, love. This is no place for a lady to be walking around by herself. Looks like you're in the same boat as me, I've never met these folks in my life either, but it seems they know what they're doing. I know of this place, Harkon Manor. If these folk have gathered here to make a stand, then I'll stick around to see if I can help."</span>. Looking Darling up and down again, trying his hardest not to leer, Elms pulls his second shortsword from the scabbard strapped over his should and adjusted his grip on it to hold the pommel toward her. <span style="color: yellow">"Take this, I don't see a weapon on you, and you don't have many places to hide one from the looks of you."</span>.</p><p></p><p>Tearing his eyes away from Darling, Elms became aware of an odd-looking man passing them, mumbling about the recovery of the villagers. Slightly odd looking because of his long braided beard, but there was something else slightly unusual about the man that Elms couldn't place. As the man continued past them and toward the wounded, Elms began to feel a strong itching in his forearm. He put his hand to the wound that he had suffered in the battle and was surprised to find that not only had the bleeding stopped, but the wound had completely closed and scabbed over. <span style="color: yellow">"You!"</span> he yelled as he approached the man, feeling the tingling in his arm grow stronger as he neared. <span style="color: yellow">"Is this your doing? You have mended my wounds... somehow."</span>. Holding up his left forearm for inspection, Elms extended his right hand to shake Malaroc by hand. <span style="color: yellow">"I am Elms. Who are you? How did you come to be here?"</span>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scratched_back, post: 5308557, member: 16262"] Furrowing his brow momentarily as he decoded the Dwarf's odd dialect in his mind, Elms again took a moment to look around the battlefield. Within fifty feet of him he could see dead Treylor, dead villagers, plenty of walking-wounded. He had quite literally walked into the middle of the largest battle he had ever witnessed. As the adrenaline left his system Elms suddenly felt quite drained. Despite being far from a novice with a blade, the Treylor soldier he had faced had not seemed worried and had parried away his blows with ease. Shuddering with a sudden burst of anger, Elms silently vowed to work on his swordsmanship. This would not happen again. [color=yellow]"Stay with me, love. This is no place for a lady to be walking around by herself. Looks like you're in the same boat as me, I've never met these folks in my life either, but it seems they know what they're doing. I know of this place, Harkon Manor. If these folk have gathered here to make a stand, then I'll stick around to see if I can help."[/color]. Looking Darling up and down again, trying his hardest not to leer, Elms pulls his second shortsword from the scabbard strapped over his should and adjusted his grip on it to hold the pommel toward her. [color=yellow]"Take this, I don't see a weapon on you, and you don't have many places to hide one from the looks of you."[/color]. Tearing his eyes away from Darling, Elms became aware of an odd-looking man passing them, mumbling about the recovery of the villagers. Slightly odd looking because of his long braided beard, but there was something else slightly unusual about the man that Elms couldn't place. As the man continued past them and toward the wounded, Elms began to feel a strong itching in his forearm. He put his hand to the wound that he had suffered in the battle and was surprised to find that not only had the bleeding stopped, but the wound had completely closed and scabbed over. [color=yellow]"You!"[/color] he yelled as he approached the man, feeling the tingling in his arm grow stronger as he neared. [color=yellow]"Is this your doing? You have mended my wounds... somehow."[/color]. Holding up his left forearm for inspection, Elms extended his right hand to shake Malaroc by hand. [color=yellow]"I am Elms. Who are you? How did you come to be here?"[/color]. [/QUOTE]
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