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Joined: Thu Oct 09, 2008 11:34 am Posts: 4 Location: East of the Great Land Mass
*Gamlet finds the spirit mill and slowly opens the door. He finds a table in the back that seems empty and sits. Looking around he sees a goodly lot of rough souls but all seem content on what they are doing. He says to himself---'Gar, this be a place that I can set me ropes some, the souls be strong speakin' and free of spirit. I must seek this fella Stash indeed' Having traveled many miles and seen many souls, Gamlet has grown tired of the solitary. Missing his mates and ship, he now seeks to put in with souls of more like mind. He is, by all appearance an Elf of high placing. However his up bringing has been more akin to the sea going souls he now see before him. This has been a trouble for most of his life and mayhaps now he could find a better placing for his adventures.---' I will sit here some and look for these souls of Glastonbury'--With that he signs for a Rum and rough bread watching all the while for an Irregular or two.
((I ain’t sure, but think you may have posted in the wrong section. Anyways, welcome.))
*Shakely sitting on a tall stool at the bar, Bolgrumin slams an empty mug heavily against the wooden counter.
“Ya calls this beer!”, he says a bit too loudly. “This is barely worth givin’ ta an infant.”, as the bartender pours him another.
Bolgrumin returns to the conversation with the man next to him. “Ya knows it was them green-lovin’ elves what started this war.” The words trail off incoherently.
Joined: Thu Oct 09, 2008 11:34 am Posts: 4 Location: East of the Great Land Mass
Gamlet had been day dreaming some, with thoughts of the open sea and images of days spent with his mates counting gold and Passing the Rum jug, when he was shaken to the present by the loud complaints of one of the other patrons. He begins to smile at the protests when he over-hears the slight about Eleven kind thrown out for no clear reason. Suddenly his hand slides to his weapon and he eyes the fella with more focus. *Nae matter where I go, tis always the same, bahh well tis what it be. Let the devil take the hind most. I be as I be and nae excusin' it none, If me thoughts and deeds can nae by pass me pointy ears, so be it.* He notes with a bit of a frown that this soul be of the ones he has been seeking. * I sees this may nae be an easy passage after all, but then what path ta worth be easy, har* With that reminder fresh in his mind he drains the Rum he has and goes back to his thoughts.
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