Eternity RPC Board
09-13-2016, 11:46 PM
The raps of her knuckles upon the heavy planks of the door reverberated throughout the void beyond before echoing back to Elke, her words reflecting along the length of the corridor to either side of her and jumping along the walls until the found freedom through the tall open windows. An echo clawed its way back to her greatly diminished, the great heavy timbers whispering the young woman's would-be greeting into her ear. No movement, no reply, not but the slightest stirring at her confident commands but that from a lazy breeze to aimlessly waft through the opened windows and, so trapped as much by its own errant curiosity as by the heavy fortifications that encased it as to grasp at the ceiling and wall fixtures before settling and swirling along the floor in its slow and silent demise.
An apt metaphor for a similarly aimless interloper, were one so inclined to such thoughts in the face of such disquieting quietude.
As much as it seemed no workers occupied the establishment, so too did the silent reply of the hinged sentinel before her give an impression that its guests partook of a similar absence. Such a revelation might make some sense, would one think about it, as surely anyone in town on business would surely be about completing said business in the middle of the day instead of sitting upon one's thumbs in a decidedly business-less sleeping chamber, a deep recovery after a long night of over-merriment aside. Even the most hermited author, so in love with using his thesaurus for creating rambling flowery texts of little substance such as the example before you, would find more inspiration for scrawling within his notebook out amongst the local scenery instead of cooping himself within such a creatively sterile environment.
At least, this facade held for several seconds before Elke became aware of a light chuffing behind a above her. "Mold! Pfff...mold, that's rich, rich! I'll have to use that one sometime meself, yes, meself," came the words so light that one with lesser hearing might have mistaken them for the usual chittering of a rodent. A small red squirrel perched itself high upon the wall, its claws sunk tight into the grains of wood just below the gold-inlaid designs of the finely detailed crown molding so as to keep it from falling from its vertical perch.
The tiny woodland creature fixed a single black eye upon the inn's latest visitor. "But what of this interloper then, interloper?" Its bushy red tail jolted slightly to punctuate the question, its mouth moving in a fashion natural for a squirrel but wholly impossible for forming the squeaky words that emanated from it. Its nose twitched similarly to its tail as it caught a lingering whiff of some scent; its face scrunched in an expression of displeasure most alien to any normal rodent. "Trollchild interloper, pretending to belong, ha! Belong, so naughty, so naughty. Heh heh hee!"
An apt metaphor for a similarly aimless interloper, were one so inclined to such thoughts in the face of such disquieting quietude.
As much as it seemed no workers occupied the establishment, so too did the silent reply of the hinged sentinel before her give an impression that its guests partook of a similar absence. Such a revelation might make some sense, would one think about it, as surely anyone in town on business would surely be about completing said business in the middle of the day instead of sitting upon one's thumbs in a decidedly business-less sleeping chamber, a deep recovery after a long night of over-merriment aside. Even the most hermited author, so in love with using his thesaurus for creating rambling flowery texts of little substance such as the example before you, would find more inspiration for scrawling within his notebook out amongst the local scenery instead of cooping himself within such a creatively sterile environment.
At least, this facade held for several seconds before Elke became aware of a light chuffing behind a above her. "Mold! Pfff...mold, that's rich, rich! I'll have to use that one sometime meself, yes, meself," came the words so light that one with lesser hearing might have mistaken them for the usual chittering of a rodent. A small red squirrel perched itself high upon the wall, its claws sunk tight into the grains of wood just below the gold-inlaid designs of the finely detailed crown molding so as to keep it from falling from its vertical perch.
The tiny woodland creature fixed a single black eye upon the inn's latest visitor. "But what of this interloper then, interloper?" Its bushy red tail jolted slightly to punctuate the question, its mouth moving in a fashion natural for a squirrel but wholly impossible for forming the squeaky words that emanated from it. Its nose twitched similarly to its tail as it caught a lingering whiff of some scent; its face scrunched in an expression of displeasure most alien to any normal rodent. "Trollchild interloper, pretending to belong, ha! Belong, so naughty, so naughty. Heh heh hee!"