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Kelrell Lute · February 26, 2008, 03:16 PM

"Wait! Don't go yet, if you are even actually there! And if you are, and aren't planning on leaving, disregard this message!"

Two of the six Arakmat Provincial Marshals broke the poker face they had been wearing in but a minor way, sideways glances being spared for the other. It was just a minor thing, but for the emotionless, it was something to brag about indeed. Well, Kelrell probably wouldn't be needing to brag about it. It probably wasn't a good thing that he was bumbling around already, perhaps getting on the nerves of some, and the adventure hadn't even started.

It would be equally bad for the ones already gathered to see the boy come skimming around the corner of a side street, dust sliding up behind his skidding feet as he nearly barrelled into the horse of the elven leader. Letting out a squawk, he barely managed to stop in time, somehow ending up on his rear end as he flailed out backwards, and managed to pitch himself over. Staring up at the horse in a daze, the animal would stare right back, the two locked in a standstill. Slowly creeping backwards, he would put some sort of distance between him and the animal, before hopping up, and brushing off his britches. He was dressed in white clothing, loose enough to provide air flow, but tight enough not to be billowy. The shirt was sleeved, providing protection from desert rays it appear, as were the pants. He looked fairly cooled, as if he was used to the desert weather. A makeshift dagger was sheathed on a leather belt wrapped around his waist.

He would glance around a moment, his eyes hesistating on the orc, then finally moving on to rest on the elven leader. A broad grin crossing his face, the kid walked over to the elf, corded muscle in his arms rippling as he moved. He walked with a definite grace, and as he approached the elven lord, a rather odd thing, considering the city, would shine in his eyes.

Innocence.

Completely unaware that he was talking to the wrong person, he would snap into a held salute, hopefully helping his chances.

"I am here to sign up for the trip to Arakmat, SIR!"

Dear Aslam. This was bad.

February 26, 2008, 03:16 PM	#3 (permalink)
Kelrell Lute Citizen Join Date: Feb 2008 Location: Imperia Posts: 2	"Wait! Don't go yet, if you are even actually there! And if you are, and aren't planning on leaving, disregard this message!" Two of the six Arakmat Provincial Marshals broke the poker face they had been wearing in but a minor way, sideways glances being spared for the other. It was just a minor thing, but for the emotionless, it was something to brag about indeed. Well, Kelrell probably wouldn't be needing to brag about it. It probably wasn't a good thing that he was bumbling around already, perhaps getting on the nerves of some, and the adventure hadn't even started. It would be equally bad for the ones already gathered to see the boy come skimming around the corner of a side street, dust sliding up behind his skidding feet as he nearly barrelled into the horse of the elven leader. Letting out a squawk, he barely managed to stop in time, somehow ending up on his rear end as he flailed out backwards, and managed to pitch himself over. Staring up at the horse in a daze, the animal would stare right back, the two locked in a standstill. Slowly creeping backwards, he would put some sort of distance between him and the animal, before hopping up, and brushing off his britches. He was dressed in white clothing, loose enough to provide air flow, but tight enough not to be billowy. The shirt was sleeved, providing protection from desert rays it appear, as were the pants. He looked fairly cooled, as if he was used to the desert weather. A makeshift dagger was sheathed on a leather belt wrapped around his waist. He would glance around a moment, his eyes hesistating on the orc, then finally moving on to rest on the elven leader. A broad grin crossing his face, the kid walked over to the elf, corded muscle in his arms rippling as he moved. He walked with a definite grace, and as he approached the elven lord, a rather odd thing, considering the city, would shine in his eyes. Innocence. Completely unaware that he was talking to the wrong person, he would snap into a held salute, hopefully helping his chances. "I am here to sign up for the trip to Arakmat, SIR!" Dear Aslam. This was bad.