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As if the omens hadn't spoken, already on the path of the Windrunner, the elf approached the arena on the city skirts, intrigued by the brightenings rumors that a race on elephant mounts would be forthcoming. Morrowyn didn't know what to expect, but without flinching, he took to the registrar and began to scribe his entry, almost with an automatic inclination. This, if not sheer joy, would surely be an experience worth remembering. Watching some of the contestants prepare, especially as he got closer, began to dissolve that whimsical perception he previously held, letting the grim reality of the event settle in. Heedless, he rallied his nerve and tensed to finish the document.
Name: Morrowyn i'Ayla Hy`lannad
Bet: 1000 Crowns
Elephant number: 2
Relieving himself of the crowns was a powerful gesture of will on his part. Far more frugal and hoardish in his earlier days, he released himself to the risk of the gamble, content that he would at least be working if all else failed.
Name: Morrowyn i'Ayla Hy`lannad
Age: 297
Color: Green
Signature of Release: xxxxxx
With all last writs signatured, the better portion of his fortune put on the shakey limb of the fool's tree, and his nerve rallied, he was given a pole-dart, a color, access to the tack (which he did his best to adjust over his shoulder, secured by the left arm) while a battle-ready right arm siezed the pole-dart and braced it like the Hoplite spearmen of old Abestat. Advancing on the arena, he searched for the elephant of his color, alert once he crossed the threshold, nearly dodging a boy in white who was flung overhead. The chaos that ensued once Morrowyn had entered the ring already left the life-long impression he was searching for. To imagine that it got more explosive than this was causing the elf to sweat at the palms and forehead.
It was time to get acquainted with the elephant of his favored hue.
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