: Drow, ogres, villians and thieves.. Such few words described the trade town of Almal'Rah.. It sat upon the fringe of this realm, Alasonia. Relaxing against the bar more to keep his form upright then anything, another tankard of ale was stamped to the counter, and the empty one removed.. A burp was all that proved he still existed.. The elven thief could not stand any around him, the many a drow held a stentch which only was as pugnant as the few ogre's and orcs lying about. If he had any fight left within him, t'would be atleast best to go after such villiany and to die a hero for his kind.:
"Bah.."
:His kind.. the very same elves who cast him out for a small 'misunderstanding'. Now he should make a stand in their name? Defend their honor? Twas not bravery.. Only foolishness.. Though never the wiser, he was content in sipping his ale till the day he died.. Stealing change purses and slitting the throats of those deserving. Lord did Lapwitch love his trade. More so he loved the seculsion this city provided.. When your surrounded by your 'element' there is no fear.. Like a big constant stand off. Almal'Rah was perhaps one of the safest cities to live in. If yae were keen enough that is.. :
:Such a silent repose and livelyhood could never be ruined. That is. Not until she walked in.. The smell of the unbathed drow fell away, even the ogre's stentch was wisked back by the smell of a perfume. Tugging the cowl further upon his brow, he wished to drown within the very shadows it provided.. Brand McKeely.. Sister to the reknowned. Devin McKeely.. Pirates and thieves by trade.. Would be foolish to stay. To waddle away the moments only till 'capture' no.. He would need leave, to find a new home. To get away from this girl and the troubles she brought. And folks thought the Il Quessir elf was a bad penny.. Rising, his back arched like that of a hunchback, waddling he went unnoticed even to the keen eyes of the Sister McKeely.. Then a voice rang out from the bar, so easily ruinning his guise, so easily removing the veil.:
"Wait one second love.. Yae can think of tossing me out o' bed early, but when yae drink one and a quarter pitchers.. Yae still pay for two Lapwitch"
:The crone at the bar was a sight. Not that horrible of a face, though she could of had a few more teeth.. Grumbling he was four feet from Brand meaning he was twelve feet from the bar, and a total of eight from the door.. The question was.. Run? Or stay..:
OOC INFORMATION:
hehe. this is jsut a quick introduction.. game on Bett Baby