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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lord Sessadore" data-source="post: 6403911" data-attributes="member: 57255">In the darkness of the night, a ship passes near the old Daunton harbour, a rowboat lands, and a solitary figure disembarks. The boat returns to the ship, which then leaves, an air of disconcerted hurriedness about it. The figure looks about the abandoned, sinking docks and collapsed warehouses where once was a bustling arena of trade and commerce. Its shoulders rise and fall in a sigh, realizing now why those on the ship would want to hurry away, and it walks slowly into the town.Moonlight glints off of silver armour covered in small swirling patterns and a long, curved shield across the figure's back. A slim, angular face framed by loose locks of straight black hair. Pointed ears protrude through the hair, betraying the figure's heritage as elven.Memories fly through the elf's mind as he walks along the once familiar roads, passing buildings he remembers as full of life. Another sigh escapes his lips. Has it really been so long? How many years? Alas, fast and fickle are the lives of humans, he finds himself thinking. Why did you call me back to this place, Palladys? What good could possibly come of seeing the ruins of Daunton? Share your wisdom, my Grey Eyed Lady.Eventually, the elf's slow walk brings him to the neighborhood of the Hanged Man, or what is left of it. The soft clink and clatter of the plates of his armour and the buckles of his pack and scabbard seem to echo all around him, to his sharp elven ears. But then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he hears a song. It is soft at first; rough and vaguely unsure but still catchingly beautiful in the desolate ruins of the city. The elf stops in the middle of the street (it isn't as though he would interfere with traffic, hah), enraptured by the song but filled with a fear that were he to continue he would break the tenuous connection of it. He listens as the voice gains confidence, volume, and his heart rings with the echo of every sad lament as it is sung.Finally, the song ceases, and as quickly as the beauty of the song had filled him he now felt the emptiness of the city press even closer to him. After a time he forces his legs to walk again, fighting against the spell of lethargy the city seems to be working in him. He comes to the door of the Hanged Man - now fallen on the floor, a pool of floor blown clear of dust around it. Inside he sees another elf. Is it so surprising that it is another elf here? I fear any other adventurers I shared these halls with have long passed to the grave. The hope that he would see a familiar companion from the old days fades - she does not look familiar. After a halting, awkward moment, he breaks the silence. "H... Hello," he says, his voice rough from the lump which had formed in his throat. He clears it with a cough then speaks again. "I am Raiyek Meliam," he says as he crosses the threshold, a bittersweet smile flitting across his lips as he relives the old tradition, but his eyes are still sad. "Well met," he adds as he advances a few steps into the remnants of the old tavern room and extends his hand to the stranger.</blockquote>

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