Eternity RPC Board
11-22-2019, 06:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-02-2019, 02:08 PM by Seperallis.)
Lesson 4:
Insistent rays of sunlight finally roused Elke to a scene confusing in its familiarity, bundled as she was within a wrap of soft woven blankets upon a down-topped straw mattress. A wash basin and mirror occupied one corner of this room, beside which sat a pitcher of room-cold water and a gently-used, perfumed lump of homemade soap. One small window with wooden blinds sat open, allowing the dying light of the late afternoon sun and the shy notes of pine tar and wild onions from the nearby forest to spread across the young woman and ground her in the reality that she once again found herself within her room at Forlag's inn. The wilderness was gone and the pain similarly so, as well as any other sign of the woodlands misadventures excepting the soft throbbing of her temples, and her newly-awoken languor.
Not all was the same this go around, as she finally noticed the room's new occupants. Upon a new oaken bedside stool sat her clothes, folded, perfumed and neatly pressed beneath her journal and satchels. Upon a new chair in front of the door sat a crimson-haired elf, arms and legs crossed as she stared blankly into the realm of thought some distance beyond the window.
Insistent rays of sunlight finally roused Elke to a scene confusing in its familiarity, bundled as she was within a wrap of soft woven blankets upon a down-topped straw mattress. A wash basin and mirror occupied one corner of this room, beside which sat a pitcher of room-cold water and a gently-used, perfumed lump of homemade soap. One small window with wooden blinds sat open, allowing the dying light of the late afternoon sun and the shy notes of pine tar and wild onions from the nearby forest to spread across the young woman and ground her in the reality that she once again found herself within her room at Forlag's inn. The wilderness was gone and the pain similarly so, as well as any other sign of the woodlands misadventures excepting the soft throbbing of her temples, and her newly-awoken languor.
Not all was the same this go around, as she finally noticed the room's new occupants. Upon a new oaken bedside stool sat her clothes, folded, perfumed and neatly pressed beneath her journal and satchels. Upon a new chair in front of the door sat a crimson-haired elf, arms and legs crossed as she stared blankly into the realm of thought some distance beyond the window.