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Orofaniel · 11-19-2004, 06:06 PM

Evrathol was not going to judge the Emissary before he had talked to him; that was his decision. Of curse he was going to have an opinion of him, but he wasn’t going to express it to anyone else. He kept those things to himself as he was a respected member of the Royal court. He wouldn’t dare to speak ill or unjust of anyone that were guests of His Majesty himself. Usually, Evrathol never spoke of such things in public, although no one could control his own mind. At the same time, Evrathol felt a need to have a strong opinion about him, because everyone talked about the Emissary – and only him. While looking upon The Emissary, Evrathol could, however, only see a strong character, but nothing more than that. Part of it because the Emissary stayed unchanged; he showed no particular joy for the banquet that had been prepared especially for him, nor did he show any excitement. This was Evrathol’s impression of him.

Studying him a bit closer he could perhaps spot a stubborn creature, with a strong will, but those were only wild guesses.

Feeling utterly ignorant about the stranger he wanted to approach him so that perhaps Evrathol could learn more about him. His legs however would not allow him – or was it his mind that stopped him from doing so? Towards this man he felt unconfident, and weak. How could this be? Evrathol was a confident elf, who had been raised by strong characters. He didn't know why he felt uncertain and uncomfortable with the stranger's presence, but it made him scared. He asked himself why he was doing this to himself, but he found no answer. What was this obnoxious thoughts of his? Why should he, Evrathol, feel uncomfortable in his position? This was completely idiotic. He clenched his teeth, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His head was spinning as the thoughts of the Emissary would not leave him.

As the Emissary bowed slightly to each guest, he finally turned to Evrathol. A small bow was offered him, and Evrathol greeted him back in suitable manner; “My good lord, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Evrathol offered, as polite as he possibly could be. “Greetings to you as well, my kind elf,” the Emissary said, smiling weakly. Those were the only words exchanged between them before the Emissary moved on to the next guest.

11-19-2004, 06:06 PM	#35
Orofaniel Mighty Mouse of Mordor Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: Lands of the North, where no man can reach.... Posts: 823	Evrathol was not going to judge the Emissary before he had talked to him; that was his decision. Of curse he was going to have an opinion of him, but he wasn’t going to express it to anyone else. He kept those things to himself as he was a respected member of the Royal court. He wouldn’t dare to speak ill or unjust of anyone that were guests of His Majesty himself. Usually, Evrathol never spoke of such things in public, although no one could control his own mind. At the same time, Evrathol felt a need to have a strong opinion about him, because everyone talked about the Emissary – and only him. While looking upon The Emissary, Evrathol could, however, only see a strong character, but nothing more than that. Part of it because the Emissary stayed unchanged; he showed no particular joy for the banquet that had been prepared especially for him, nor did he show any excitement. This was Evrathol’s impression of him. Studying him a bit closer he could perhaps spot a stubborn creature, with a strong will, but those were only wild guesses. Feeling utterly ignorant about the stranger he wanted to approach him so that perhaps Evrathol could learn more about him. His legs however would not allow him – or was it his mind that stopped him from doing so? Towards this man he felt unconfident, and weak. How could this be? Evrathol was a confident elf, who had been raised by strong characters. He didn't know why he felt uncertain and uncomfortable with the stranger's presence, but it made him scared. He asked himself why he was doing this to himself, but he found no answer. What was this obnoxious thoughts of his? Why should he, Evrathol, feel uncomfortable in his position? This was completely idiotic. He clenched his teeth, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His head was spinning as the thoughts of the Emissary would not leave him. As the Emissary bowed slightly to each guest, he finally turned to Evrathol. A small bow was offered him, and Evrathol greeted him back in suitable manner; “My good lord, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Evrathol offered, as polite as he possibly could be. “Greetings to you as well, my kind elf,” the Emissary said, smiling weakly. Those were the only words exchanged between them before the Emissary moved on to the next guest. Last edited by Orofaniel; 11-22-2004 at 07:37 AM.