Amoran K. Kol
12-16-10, 02:58 AM
The table was rough against her elbows, her long raven strands catching on the splintered wood. "Why are the tables so terribly weathered? It certainly isn't this humid here." thought Amoran, her gaze lowered to the table.
She sat in silence for a time, pondering to herself, her warm drink growing cold in its idle place beside her arm. Her piercing eyes lingered on a small detail in the wood as the sound of clanking cups rang over the scattered noise of the tavern, reminding her of the armor worn by some of the men in the room.
Sitting up suddenly, the booth making a ragged screech as she pushes the bench back, Amoran mutters aloud, looking over at the empty seat in front of her. "Armor! Where in all nine hells will I find armor in this world?"
The living vines covering her body shift and tighten with her movement, acting as firm fitting clothing to keep her properly in place, adjusting here and there.
She sat in silence for a time, pondering to herself, her warm drink growing cold in its idle place beside her arm. Her piercing eyes lingered on a small detail in the wood as the sound of clanking cups rang over the scattered noise of the tavern, reminding her of the armor worn by some of the men in the room.
Sitting up suddenly, the booth making a ragged screech as she pushes the bench back, Amoran mutters aloud, looking over at the empty seat in front of her. "Armor! Where in all nine hells will I find armor in this world?"
The living vines covering her body shift and tighten with her movement, acting as firm fitting clothing to keep her properly in place, adjusting here and there.