Here There Be Dragons - RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 12-29-2003, 11:49 AM

Pio’s post - Rôg

Her last verse spoke of the secrets of the First and Second Born the River had seen and kept throughout its long life. The old man chuckled, and thumped his cane to the rhythm of the girl’s tune. He murmured the last two lines, slightly out of tune . . . a weird echo of sorts to her own singing of them that made the fine hair on Rôg’s arms prickle.

‘There’ll be no secrets spilled here,’ he said to himself, drawing up the hood of his cloak. His dark eyes blackened, the pupils widening to accommodate the shadows now thrown over his face. The man, Baran, he had called himself, listened appreciatively to the girl’s song. The thick fingers of one hand tapped on the table’s top, while his other brought the apple in its grasp mouthward, to be sundered by one chomp of his strong jaw and sharp teeth. Yes, he would like apples, thought Rôg, watching the man closely, as he applauded the girl’s song.

He turned back to the fire, sipping at his ale, and watched the flames wrap hungrily round the logs, their ever changing shapes dancing wildly in the thick, hot air. ‘Why has such a one come south, Dester’ edre?’ he asked the old man quietly.

12-29-2003, 11:49 AM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Pio’s post - Rôg Her last verse spoke of the secrets of the First and Second Born the River had seen and kept throughout its long life. The old man chuckled, and thumped his cane to the rhythm of the girl’s tune. He murmured the last two lines, slightly out of tune . . . a weird echo of sorts to her own singing of them that made the fine hair on Rôg’s arms prickle. ‘There’ll be no secrets spilled here,’ he said to himself, drawing up the hood of his cloak. His dark eyes blackened, the pupils widening to accommodate the shadows now thrown over his face. The man, Baran, he had called himself, listened appreciatively to the girl’s song. The thick fingers of one hand tapped on the table’s top, while his other brought the apple in its grasp mouthward, to be sundered by one chomp of his strong jaw and sharp teeth. Yes, he would like apples, thought Rôg, watching the man closely, as he applauded the girl’s song. He turned back to the fire, sipping at his ale, and watched the flames wrap hungrily round the logs, their ever changing shapes dancing wildly in the thick, hot air. ‘Why has such a one come south, Dester’ edre?’ he asked the old man quietly. Last edited by piosenniel; 04-07-2004 at 11:33 AM.