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<blockquote data-quote="Uriel" data-source="post: 1214743" data-attributes="member: 8222">Having remained silent until now, the Elf known as Amrath stands, walking around the table of the Council, mutterin quietly to himself in a disturbing sussurus, like the distant laugh of a child one moment and the direct and pointed words of a statesman the next, though never audibly enough to be intelligible. Stopping at an antiquated suit of armor leaning against one wall he peers closely at it through his pale green mask, a smlie upon lips dry from weariness, lips bereft of a proper laugh for many a day.A spider worked at it's web, running back and forth between the shoulder plate and the wrist of the Suit, the armor welded in place, at attention, though the sentinel was long since out of work, so long had it sat here like so much other refuse from the World above, now dead.Amrath frew a slim dagger from under his chest wrappings, turning, noting that several of the Council were staring at him as they often did, so unsettling was his manner.'The Tempest are like this delicious little spider oh yes, delicious, aren't they...he,he,succulent, I would deem..., strong in their net of Power, but so easily disrupted with the well-placed and precise strike...' Amrath cut the lynchpin strand, anchoring the entirety of what the little arachnid had been labouring at all day, no doubt, watching as the spider went into an agitated state as it's web became chaotic and disorderly.Amrath turned back to the Council and said 'The tempest are a Big Spider, I agree...but my knife is Oh-so-sharp...and eager to test their Webs. I vote to strike against them as well.'</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Uriel, post: 1214743, member: 8222"] Having remained silent until now, the Elf known as Amrath stands, walking around the table of the Council, mutterin quietly to himself in a disturbing sussurus, like the distant laugh of a child one moment and the direct and pointed words of a statesman the next, though never audibly enough to be intelligible. Stopping at an antiquated suit of armor leaning against one wall he peers closely at it through his pale green mask, a smlie upon lips dry from weariness, lips bereft of a proper laugh for many a day. A spider worked at it's web, running back and forth between the shoulder plate and the wrist of the Suit, the armor welded in place, at attention, though the sentinel was long since out of work, so long had it sat here like so much other refuse from the World above, now dead. Amrath frew a slim dagger from under his chest wrappings, turning, noting that several of the Council were staring at him as they often did, so [I]unsettling[/I] was his manner. [COLOR=cyan]'The Tempest are like this delicious little spider [SIZE=1][COLOR=lime]oh yes, delicious, aren't they...he,he,succulent, I would deem...[/COLOR][/SIZE], strong in their net of Power, but so easily disrupted with the well-placed and precise strike...'[/COLOR] Amrath cut the lynchpin strand, anchoring the entirety of what the little arachnid had been labouring at all day, no doubt, watching as the spider went into an agitated state as it's web became chaotic and disorderly. Amrath turned back to the Council and said [COLOR=cyan]'The tempest are a Big Spider, I agree...but my knife is Oh-so-sharp...and eager to test their Webs. I vote to strike against them as well.'[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]

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