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<blockquote data-quote="H.M.Gimlord" data-source="post: 5364802" data-attributes="member: 79440">&quot;Pfffffffew!&quot; Foam jets from Mikara's nose and bubbles from the corners of her mouth in an effort to stifle an irresistible laugh, &quot;Honey, are you in the wrong place!&quot; she wipes her mouth, &quot;There isn't clean water for miles around here.&nbsp;&nbsp; Why do think we're all drinking ale!?&quot; She waves around the room and out the door, &quot;The citizenry of Daunton has found it their pleasure to fell every tree in the vicinity to burn or make houses... and ships suitable for leaving once every branch of beauty has been destroyed, while those who have nowhere else to go are left to live in squalor.&quot; The ranting elf walks over to a window and throws open the shutters, &quot;Not even the moonlight makes it through the haze.&quot; She squints, as if that will help as she looks through the pea-soup fog - the result of countless fireplaces belching smoke into the air in close proximity, &quot;They call it 'fog'.&quot; She spits the word like an oath, &quot;I call it The Angel of Death. Come 'round to shroud us, to cling to us, to attach its musty, suffocating despair to our very bones, never leaving us, no matter where we go...And all you can do is worry about the water!?&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="H.M.Gimlord, post: 5364802, member: 79440"] [COLOR=Lime]"Pfffffffew!"[/COLOR] Foam jets from Mikara's nose and bubbles from the corners of her mouth in an effort to stifle an irresistible laugh, [COLOR=Lime]"Honey, are you in the wrong place!"[/COLOR] she wipes her mouth, [COLOR=Lime]"There isn't clean water for miles around here. Why do think we're all drinking ale!?"[/COLOR] She waves around the room and out the door, [COLOR=Lime]"The citizenry of Daunton has found it their pleasure to fell every tree in the vicinity to burn or make houses... and ships suitable for leaving once every branch of beauty has been destroyed, while those who have nowhere else to go are left to live in squalor." The ranting elf walks over to a window and throws open the shutters, "Not even the moonlight makes it through the haze." [/COLOR] She squints, as if that will help as she looks through the pea-soup fog - the result of countless fireplaces belching smoke into the air in close proximity, [COLOR=Lime]"They call it 'fog'."[/COLOR] She spits the word like an oath, [COLOR=Lime]"I call it The Angel of Death. Come 'round to shroud us, to cling to us, to attach its musty, suffocating despair to our very bones, never leaving us, no matter where we go... And all you can do is worry about the water!?"[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]

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