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| Death's Doorstep; [P]Aiden, Tahamul | |
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| Topic Started: Tue Apr 27, 2010 1:39 pm (176 Views) | |
| swordhunter | Tue Apr 27, 2010 1:39 pm Post #1 |
 
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“We think the body’s down there, Master Elf,” said the gruff constable, pointing with his nightstick as Aiden moved forward. “Well. . .shouldn’t you summon some constables to go get it?” the elf asked. The following silence was all the answer he needed—he was obviously going to do this job alone. “Fine,” he muttered, almost sighing in resignation as he moved towards the alley entrance. For every second he was here, the elf was reminded of just how much he hated this place…it always turned out to be nothing but trouble. This time was certainly no different. Aiden had been lucky enough, or unlucky depending on perspective, to be near the town when he was summoned by the local constables to investigate a series of murders that had thrown even this dark town into a panic. The streets, usually crowded with lowlifes hanging in dark corners or alleys, were deathly quiet with only the occasional stray animal breaking the silence. Aiden frowned as he peered forward through the lantern light down the darkened alleyway. The elf was feeling a very unfamiliar emotion as he slowly drew his longsword and moved between the empty wooden buildings on either side: apprehension. He was thankful for the gentle lantern light floating gently beside his head, held aloft by the small apparition created by the magical item. Never thought I'd find a use for the bloody thing, the elf thought, looking any reason to think of anything other than what might await him on the other side of the allyway. He counted the number of steps he was taking, making a rough estimate of just how far from the street he was venturing. As he neared ‘twenty,’ Aiden stopped and blinked, hoping that the sight before him was a trick of the light. He motioned quickly, watching in silence as his ghostly companion moved forward slowly, keeping the lantern aloft. Aiden bit back a cry of disgust as the soft light gradually revealed the bloodied, mangled body of what had been a woman, no older than her mid-twenties. “Damn,” he muttered, shifting so that he could bring part of his cloak across his face to block out the still moderate stench of death. Taking a few tentative steps forward, Aiden glanced about the alley, making sure that whatever had done this wasn’t still lurking about. The ghost moved forward a few more meters until the lantern light revealed a high wooden wall sealing off this end of the alley. Satisfied that nothing dangerous remained, the elf sheathed his blade and moved closer to the body, stooping as low as he dared to get a better look. The cause of death was evident as a pool of blood sat undisturbed by the victim. Streaks of the liquid lined her face and body, revealing deep wounds on her neck and slash marks across her face and chest. “Nothing to do here but move the body,” the elf muttered as he straightened and again motioned to his silent companion. The lantern floated ahead of him as the elf said, “The body needs to be retrieved and buried. It’s a dead end back there, so no way for whoever did this go anywhere else but back here along the street.” Taking a glance down, Aiden could tell that the ground had been swept along, likely by whoever had committed the crime. I doubt we’re dealing with an amateur, the elf thought as the constable glanced down the alley with a worried look. The elf caught his eye and deflected the question before it could even be asked. “No, I will not get it for you,” Aiden growled, already walking past the constable towards the tavern where he was quartered. “Go down there and do your damn job, eh?” |
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| Tahamul | Tue Apr 27, 2010 1:51 pm Post #2 |
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The blood on his hands was beginning to dry. Tahamul stumbled into the tavern eyes wide, mouth dry. Ordered something. Didn't remember. Didn't care. Just needed to... needed to drink. Something. It didn't matter if it didn't, couldn't do anything for him. No, maybe it was better this way. Glass was placed in front of him. He picked it up, downed it in one go. Where there used to be liquid fire there was only a dull ache, like a phantom limb being burned from far away, perhaps down in Hell. His hands left sticky red-brown smears as he dropped the glass back onto the counter. In this lightning, no one could tell. Not that it would matter. Hive of scum and trash taverns were. He wasn't- Her eyes stared at him from that gruesome torso. Pleading, maybe. Accusing, maybe. Dead, definitely. "Another," the vampire coughed throwing more gold to the counter. He was quickly obliged and downed the second drink. Shaking. He was shaking. Couldn't help it. What - how - why- His mouth was still parched. His skin was still flaking. His body was still falling apart. He was still in control of his mental faculties, presumably. But there was blood on his hands. A lady's blood. Perhaps a girl's blood. He hadn't been able to tell or concentrate. He'd woken up and there she had been, dead right there, and there had been blood on his hands and he didn't remember what had happened. |
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| swordhunter | Tue Apr 27, 2010 2:12 pm Post #3 |
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The image of the mangled body popped into Aiden’s head with each step the elf took, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. He found himself, forcing…pleading with his mind to simply rest, but he could find no respite. Perhaps that’s the way it should be until I find out who did this, the elf thought ruefully, sighing as his lantern bobbed gently beside him. For some reason, at that moment, he wished for nothing more than a companion that he could actually talk to rather than a magical, voiceless helper. “If wishes were fishes,” he rhymed with a sad grin, counting down the seconds until he’d be back in his warm bed for the night. But as he walked, he noticed a dark spot on the ground before him. At first not thinking much of it, the elf kept walking. However, when his mind actually digested the occurrence, he stopped, turned, and moved slowly and expectantly towards the spot. “Would I be that lucky?” he thought anxiously as he stooped down and peered forward. To his everlasting surprise, he discovered that the dark spot had been what he’d hoped: a drop of blood. Hoping that this wasn’t a singular thing, the elf turned on his heel towards the tavern, scanning the ground for more evidence of blood. Aiden was quickly rewarded by another spot, then another, then a group bunched together. I’ll be damned, he thought, his pulse racing at the sudden break. There were already questions springing forth in his mind, but he paid them little attention as excitement began to take hold. His pace quickened as he followed the drops of blood, now more numerous, down the deserted street. Maybe I was worrying too much after all. Perhaps this case was a lot simpler than I feared. I must have given the murderer too much credit when I said they weren’t an ama- The elf’s thought floated away as he realized where he was heading. He let his eyes finish following the trail of blood, not een registering surprise as he ended up looking at the very tavern in which he was staying. Aiden turned his head a bit as he stared in disbelief. “Under my very nose?” he muttered, not caring if anyone were around to hear him. “I can’t believe this was happening under my very nose.” His frustration mounted to the point where he felt like hitting something, ANYTHING, to find relief. But he knew that such action would be pointless, especially considering it wouldn’t bring anyone back to life. Instead, the elf sighed sadly as he strode forcefully through the doors of the establishment and prepared to face whatever evil had been sharing a building with him. . . |
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| Tahamul | Tue Apr 27, 2010 2:36 pm Post #4 |
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Tahamul was not a good person, per se. His shoulders shook. Blood dripped from his eyes. Tears? Ah. He must have been losing his mind. Ahah. He laughed into his fifth (sixth? seventh?) drink before downing it. So, this was the end, was it? To lose his mind in bits and pieces and turn into just another ravenous beast. The worst possible end. And he had tried so hard too... No. That wasn't right. He had done evil from a certain perspective. Perhaps all perspectives. He couldn't forget that. Couldn't... forget what the rules of the games were. Society ran on rules. Civilization ran on rules. He would play by them, subvert them but would not ignore them. He was not a good person. He was a noble. He had been born into the blood money of generations. There was rot about noblesse obligé which might have been good for the few who still had their conscience intact despite impossibility of reconciling being a noble and doing good. It was an evil one was born into and one took as granted for being merely the way the world worked. A values system where one could spit on, maim, hurt, kill others for no better reason than 'just because.' Laws where the various fiefdoms and the virtual slavery that was peasant life on noble lands was justified by knights in armor and wizards in their high towers - petty enforcers working on a dime. The good were generally weeded out by various poisons. He'd even heard that the son of a duke had committed suicide after some event or another... heck, he had pushed a few nobles to their doom so as to improve the standing of his own family. Sent messages via the form of dead servants and pets. One did not long bother the Tahamuls. No, he was not a good person. But that did not mean he wished to kill indiscriminately. To lose control merely because he had this god-forsaken vampiricism- The glass in his hand shattered. Blood dripped from the cuts, slow and languid. He picked out the pieces of glass with an idle motion before ordering another drink. |
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| swordhunter | Tue Apr 27, 2010 2:53 pm Post #5 |
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Aiden exited the dark, quiet streets of Balefire and entered the bright, loud environment that marked the ground floor of the tavern. Happy shouts, laughter, and clapping bombarded his ears as the smell of alcohol and food filled his nostrils. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a great place to relax and let the worries of the day drift away thanks to a glass of cold brew. However, this was not one of those times and although the smell of food and drink surrounded the elf, he focused on only one: blood. While faint, the scent of blood hung in the air ominously, drifting among all the patrons of the tavern, momentarily implicating them all in the murder of an innocent young woman. Aiden knew that hoping to follow the trail of blood to the singluar criminal in the room would be nearly impossible thanks to the gallons of spilled alcohol which covered the floor. In case he was wrong, the elf took a glance down and felt foolish when his suspicion was confirmed. Have to follow my nose then. Hopefully no one pukes...I'd hate to lose the scent because of something silly. As if on some mocking cue, the sudden splatter of liquid being projected onto the wooden floor could be heard, along with surprised and disgusted gasps. I really hope that no one hands me ten bags of gold, Aiden thought angrily, hoping that such an ironic occurrence might happen again. But lucky for him, his eyes just happened to drift along to the bar counter. He ignored the bustling barkeep, the excited man ordering a drink, and the bored-looking woman beside him. Aiden ignored the gleaming bottles of liquid arranged meticulously along the wooden shelves as well as the huge wooden barrels placed gently against the wall behind the barkeep. His mind shut out the noises and the smells of the tavern while his eyes remained fixed on a singular point...or rather, a series of singular points on the floor. Aiden could look at nothing, other than the small drops of blood grouped at the foot of a single stool. His eyes narrowed as he followed the wooden legs of the stool to where they met, supporting the weight of a cloaked figure, looking strangely at his bloodied hand. His clothes were torn in some places and from a distance and underneath, red stains clearly showed. I wish I had ten bags of gold, Aiden thought, this time truly hoping that such luck could befall him again. Without a word, Aiden strode through the crowded tavern and moved uncomfortably close to the man at the counter. "Your finest ale," the elf ordered, placing a gold piece as payment upon the wooden counter. At the same time, he gave the barkeep a reassuring wink, hoping that the gesture would be enough to buy relative calm from the man while Aiden dealt with his business. "Hello there, traveler," he said sweetly to the man beside him. As he spoke, Aiden allowed his eyes to look over the traveler. He noticed the cuts along his face and arms as well as the multiple blood stains on his clothes. "You hurt there or something?" |
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| Tahamul | Tue Apr 27, 2010 3:35 pm Post #6 |
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Ah. Someone was speaking to him. An elf. How... distasteful. He calmed his shoulders. He could be weak on his own time. Like the sewers. Or that time in the Ruins of l'Ancienne. That's right. He was the Third Earl of Tahamul. Nobility. Even in his current situation, he had to maintain his own facades. Not for something as petty as pride - it served as it had always served. He slipped back into the noble persona that he was supposed to be. "My glass broke," Tahamul said, disinterestedly but miming pain as he flexed his hand. The blood churned out sluggishly before his fingers hid the wound altogether. Yes, that was how humans were supposed to act, right? If not complaining and threatening the bartender with violence and destruction for allowing the glass to cut him then... tough. Nobles were supposedly descended from a warrior lineage, it was why they received training and why they went to war. Or were supposed to. "I'm afraid digging the pieces out of my skin made something of a mess. You're going to have to put up with it I'm afraid, monsieur." Something was off about all this. Someone other than him paying with gold in a watering hole not fit for horses. An elf talking to him and making small talk about blood. He narrowed his eyes. Could it be...? No. No, that was paranoia. They couldn't have possibly traced him so quickly. Stupid. Stupid. Calm down. It was just small talk of some bored passer-by wanting to hear a story. Elves were known to do that - wanderlust, was it? Some were caught by the vagaries of other civilizations and killed or thrust into situations that were all the worse for them for their long lifespans. Most made it out alright. But regardless, he'd have to leave soon. He was still too close. He finished his drink in a smooth gulp. Ordered yet another. He should have acted more drunk. Oh well, too late for that now. "And your story, elf?" He asked with just the right mix of haughty disinterest that communicated - I'm just doing this out of courtesy, peon. |
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| swordhunter | Tue Apr 27, 2010 3:53 pm Post #7 |
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While silently regarding his new target of suspicion, Aiden could tell that this man was all but changing clothes in an effort to regain his composure. Putting up a facade while wearing the bloodied clothes, the elf thought as the barkeep handed him a full glass of ale. At any other time, I'd call the effort laughable...but now, I know he's just trying to hide something...and failing quite horribly at it. The elf noted the barely hidden disgust evident in the man's voice as he calmly explained the broken glass in his hand and the blood dripping to the wooden counter below. Aiden, in turn, feigned concern, all but hovering over the man's hand in an effort to see the extent of the damage. But in reality, he was scanning the hand for any evidence that could connect the man to the lifeless corpse residing in a pool of blood just a few hundred meters down the road. Her hair was brown, I think, Aiden thought, reminding himself of the fact as he searched for an odd hair, a piece of cloth, anything that could connect this man to that alleyway. "And your story, elf?" Aiden was dragged from his thoughts and brought back to reality as a few glasses of ale were delivered a few feet down the counter. "Here for business," the elf said, raising his glass to his lips and taking a few sips of the cold liquid inside. He let the ale flow over his tongue, distracting himself with its slightly bitter taste as he thought of his next move. In the elf's eyes, his "companion" of sorts was already convicted of the crime...now, all that remained was forcing that fact out into the open. "Actually," he continued, "I'm here investigating a few of the murders that have occurred here recently. Haven't found much yet, but I'm investigating a few leads....well...actually, just one very promising one at the moment." The elf coolly lifted the glass to his lips again, forcing himself not to look at the man beside him. Instead, he listened hard for any sign of change or realization. Loud breathing, uncomfortable shifting, anything that would give the elf a reason to continue his line of questioning. . . |
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| Tahamul | Tue Apr 27, 2010 6:43 pm Post #8 |
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Ah. It would have no doubt been bad if his heart still beat. As it was, sweat beaded at his brow and he ever so nearly stopped breathing. Probably would have had he not been in mid-gulp. He forced himself to finish his glass of (mead? beer? wine?) brew with as much aplomb as he could manage. The glass might have cracked or it might not have. Tricks of the light. Analysis. He could do that much. Take one. The elf was not lying. Take two. The elf was not telling the whole truth. Take three. The elf was fishing for information. With a marked lack of skill. And not only the questions which were lacking in subtlety but just plain method. Clearly no diplomat. It was easier to obtain information from a properly inebriated subject. In vino veritas as the saying went. It would not have been very difficult to draw the conversation out which meant that either the elf was short on time, really bad at this, or a little too sure of himself. Take four. The elf was used to doing something similar but in a very different position of power. It was much like... a farmer doing a soldier's work. The familiarity of the spade opposed to that of the sword - an inelegant blunt instrument brought in place of something quick and sharp. Law enforcement? Possibly. Tahamul had been given the basics of diplomacy as part of education. There was only ever one rule to diplomacy. Win. How much would it cost me to have you stop talking of such morbid topics, elf?" |
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| swordhunter | Wed Apr 28, 2010 9:44 am Post #9 |
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How much would it cost me to have you stop talking of such morbid topics, elf? Aiden smiled in satisfaction as he lifted his glass to his lips again. "Depends on why you'd want to stop talking about them," he replied softly, turning just slightly so that the hilt of his longsword could be seen showing from beneath his cloak. "Now, if you wanted to stop talking because it's not proper tavern talk, then that's pefectly fine." He paused as he took another sip of his drink before continuing, "But if you wanted to change the subject because you just happen to be the only one here covered with the stench and color of blood. . .well that's not fine at all." In a series of long gulps, the elf finished his drink, set the empty glass down on the counter, and looked his suspect in the eyes. "Now why don't you save us both some trouble and step outside? I have a few questions to ask you and I'd much rather do it where I know you can hear me. But feel free to finish that drink before you leave. And make sure to really savor it." Because it could very well be your last, the elf finished mentally. . . |
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| Tahamul | Wed Apr 28, 2010 11:52 am Post #10 |
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Crud. Eloquent, as always, the vampire thought sarcastically to himself. He calmly finished his drink. A year of living in the sewers did that to you. The glass didn't shatter nor did he suddenly transform into a blood-sucking monstrosity with wings and a body whose skin with a few sizes too small. And the day had been going so well too. Technically. Well, maybe not even technically. If not money... "Your identification, sir." He said without moving. The bartender was looking markedly nervous as he poured him another cup. "Even a small backwards town such as this requires something in the way of protocol. You address an earl, peon. Be certain that it is indeed worth your while." |
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| swordhunter | Wed Apr 28, 2010 5:17 pm Post #11 |
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"Your identification, sir. Even a small backwards town such as this requires something in the way of protocol. You address an earl, peon. Be certain that it is indeed worth your while." Aiden stopped, blinked, then broke out into laughter. He honestly couldn't help himself at being asked to show identification. I'm a ranger! Not a constable, he thought, hiding the remainder of his laugh behind a gloved hand. This one...needs to be taken down a peg or two...or three. "Peon?" the elf thought, raising his hand to his chin as if he were considering the term and turning it over and over again in his mind. "I'll admit, it's a term I don't hear that much, so I'll give you points for originality." He then lowered his hand to his hip and again displayed the hilt of his sword for the man to see clearly. "But perhaps I didn't make myself clear the last time, so I'll gladly repeat for your benefit." He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered a bit of magic, then whispered a single word, "Caer." He simply waited as the spell took effect, holding back as much power as he could so that he could decrease the radius of his spell. Within seconds, the temperature began to rise rapidly around the elf, an effect that he was certain the man before him would feel. The barkeep came close, as if to inspect the situation, but recoiled as he caught sight of the elf's face and the sudden red coloration which clouded his eyes. In response, Aiden gave him a simple look, then jerked his head, as if telling the barkeep to get as far away as possible, an action which the frightened shopkeeper took gladly as he moved to the other side of the bar. "Now, as I was saying," Aiden said, his voice a mite huskier from the exhertion of the spell, "I'd like to ask you a few questions...outside, if you don't mind. . ." |
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| Tahamul | Wed Apr 28, 2010 5:55 pm Post #12 |
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Ah. Well, this was a hick town in the middle of nowhere. He shouldn't have expected proper justice. Or any pandering to nobles as if they were some sort of minor deity come down to earth was the usual state of affairs as anyone knew was proper. Hot. His throat was parched. Was it just him or- Ah, so that's what the spell did. It was quickly turning very, very warm. Not for the first time, Tahamul thought that he shouldn't have come here at all - despite the information garnered this was quickly turning into something out of a piss-poor opera. He'd laugh at the script if it wasn't for the fact that it was actually, one must have realized, happening to him. "My my, how uniquely uncivilized." The aristocrat said calmly. He couldn't allow himself to be riled. Even if this... thug deserved a quick trip to the bottom of the sea it would not be by his hands. Or at least, no unknowingly by his own hands. He'd gladly hold the bayonet. But no, no biting out wee elfish necks. That would be improper. Tahamul blinked. Re-assessed his thoughts. Was it the spell? The heat? Or was it the vampiricism talking? He wasn't... usually... quite so willing to employ violence. Was he? Had he actually tore out that women's entrails and thus started onto that psychotic, thorny path towards mental degradation and some sort of warped... No. No. He would not be permitted to think such thoughts. Discipline. "Now, as I was saying-" So. Question was, was the elf bluffing? Would he use fire magic in a building full of combustibles and innocent riff-raff? Eh. Likely enough. Elves weren't exactly known for their sparkling sociability and tendency towards commonsensical interpretations of priorities. Still, he'd take that gamble. It was his final option. Neither money nor reputation had worked. "Go ahead then," the vampire said with a careless rasp. His eyes betrayed him though - every bit of spare focus was centered squarely on the elf. The glass in his hand shattered. "Burn me where I stand." |
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| swordhunter | Wed Apr 28, 2010 7:21 pm Post #13 |
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For the second time tonight, Aiden found himself unable to do anything but blink in surprise. Burn him? the elf thought, Is that a guilty conscience speaking, or is it something else? For the first time, Aiden looked into the man's eyes...and saw nothing resembling depravity. Hopelessness? he thought, Guilt? Indifference? What? What on earth is consuming this man? The elf thought it ironic that the insults of "uncivilized" and "peon" had hurt him less than the realization that perhaps, just maybe, something more was wrong here. All evidence--the blood, the stench, everything--pointed to this man as the culprit. And yet, Aiden couldn't help but sense that something else was going on here, something that wasn't entirely evident at the moment. Snorting loudly, Aiden snapped and released the spell, turning back towards the counter and waving the barkeep down. "Give us another...of whatever he's having," Aiden said, jerking his thumb towards the man. "And could we get a metal tankard please? He seems to be quite clumsy when it comes to glass." It took a few seconds of long, hard staring before the barkeep could be convinced to move. Needless to say, the second coin that Aiden placed on the counter certainly didn't hurt things. "Let's say that I didn't burn you," the elf began as they waited for their drinks. "Let's say that I decided not to carry out a painful form of vigilante justice that would cause everyone here to flee in a panic. And let's just say that YOU aren't the reason that a young woman is lying in a pool of her own blood just a few hundred meters down the road." Aiden leaned close and stared the man directly in the eyes before continuing, "If I were to say all that, what would you do? Could you explain why on earth you're covered in blood, even if you've managed to hide it from these drunken citizens? Why would you want me to 'burn you?' Is it out of guilt? Or something else. . .?" |
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| Tahamul | Thu Apr 29, 2010 12:03 am Post #14 |
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Tahamul didn’t dare blink. Was the elf joking…? No, no – not with that sort of look. You couldn’t just mimic that sort of tepid, uncertain ah-ha! moment with some half-baked acting skills. Argh, this was so frustrating. This was why he did not like playing the normally enjoyable mind-games with non-humans or landless peons, they didn’t follow the rules set down by the good book of diplomacy. Indeed, one had to wonder if they played the same game at all sometimes. How to explain in a few short sentences- did the elf not realize…? That this was merely a desperate gamble on the part of a man playing with no cards in hand? That he was trying to call bluff as to the elf’s willingness to use violence? He’d tried plying the elf’s hand with money, then names and then honour. None seemed to work in the slightest… There was a different option, of course. Elvish insight was nigh legendary – and it should have been after millennia of existence. Witness a bar full of drunken sops – not a one noticed the blood on his hands or his haunted, haggard countenance and pegged him a madman that could possibly end their lives at the drop of a hat. What if… what if the elf was right? What if the third Earl of Tahamul was actually considering self-destruction… The vampire filed the thought off for later contemplation. It was not precisely certain that he’d survive this encounter anyway. “Let us presume, for a moment,” Tahamul said, licking his lips, “that there was a man. A hypothetical one, mind you for I certainly do not have the faintest notion as to what you are referring to, a man who had traveled into some far forgotten corner of the world to learn of the secrets that might cure him of a particular… affliction.” It could have been rubella, syphilis, typhoid fever – but the only afflictions anyone ever really thought about lycanthropy and vampiricism. Given it was not quite dusk yet… “Now this affliction would leave him open to many undesirable accusations so his conduct must be, for lack of a better word, unimpeachable.” He nodded to the elf who must have been familiar with prejudice given his racial heritage and the lands he frequented. “Let us presume, furthermore, that he awoke to the scene of a crime, hands stained in blood. What should such a man do?” |
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| swordhunter | Thu Apr 29, 2010 9:25 am Post #15 |
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“Let us presume, for a moment that there was a man. A hypothetical one, mind you for I certainly do not have the faintest notion as to what you are referring to, a man who had traveled into some far forgotten corner of the world to learn of the secrets that might cure him of a particular… affliction.” Aiden almost almost rolled his eyes as the barkeep brought two full tankards of a light ale to them...metal tankards. The elf nodded his thanks as he prepared himself for whatever insane defense this man was planning. What's he going to say? He mentally lost control of himself or something? That he's blaming the attack on 'things that were out of his control?' That's not as original as I was hoping... Despite his sneaking suspicion that this conversation was leading nowhere quickly, Aiden simply started drinking and continued listening. “Now this affliction would leave him open to many undesirable accusations so his conduct must be, for lack of a better word, unimpeachable. Let us presume, furthermore, that he awoke to the scene of a crime, hands stained in blood. What should such a man do?” The elf stopped mid-sip as he turned the man's words over in his mind. Awoke? he thought, As in sleepwalked? That's not much more believeable, I don't think. He's still blaming his actions on something else besides himself...which the evidence doesn't actually bear out. "If we assume all that, then I'd assume this was just a guilty man attempting to cover up his actions with a plea amounting to, 'I did it, but it wasn't my fault." Aiden's expression turned grim as he looked at the man face to face once again. "And if that were the case, I'd say that this man had a pretty flimsy defense, especially considering the drops of evidence on the floor beneath his stool." "You'll have to come up with something a hell of a lot better than that, I'm afraid." Suddenly, the elf stopped and considered an idea which had suddenly popped into his head. If this is a mental thing though...then what would happen if he were brought back to the scene of the crime? How would he react? And would it give me any more clues about what the hell happened? After a few long moments of consideration, Aiden put down his tankard and said, "Finish your drink. We're taking a little walk. . ." |
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11:19 PM Feb 9
