From: Dustin Headen (dustinpbem_at_hotmail.com)
Date: Tue Nov 18 2003 - 21:10:08 GMT
Having spent his last few silvers on a room and a drink, Trystan takes
his time at the bar slowly savoring the average ale and carefully observing
the tavern's customers. His interest already aroused by talk of disappearing
Havenites, he quickly turns on his stool, some of his dirty blonde hair
falling free from its ponytail and obscuring his sharply chiseled features,
when he hears the seemingly desperate voice of the troll reverberate through
the inn.
After the troll's bold plea for help, Trystan listens intently to the
natives' criticism. Trying to perceive the troll's motives, Trystan rests
his trim, human figure quietly on his stool, sips his ale, and considers the
opportunity as several of the rooms' occupants respond in turn.
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This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.7 : Tue Nov 18 2003 - 21:10:11 GMT