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Old May 2nd, 2013, 05:43 PM
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Kikpanther
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Anlem Taegor- Currilan, Eveamoor

Anlem released a long sigh. He had walked since he awoke and hadn't stopped, save for bathroom breaks and a chance to eat. He'd sold his riding animal in the last city he'd visited--Dalenham, it was--and had since then carried on on foot. He didn't exactly mind it, but it had its moments where it became tiring. Still, he enjoyed the opportunities it gave him, like natural scenes and odd people. He had seen a few on his way here in various towns. Like a man who always talked in riddles or women who only sought for men with certain colored hats. Yes, he'd met a few characters in his time and had recorded each encounter in his book which he held open now. It was large and stored many pages--more than a thousand, Anlem was sure. He sat on his rock and wrote slowly, deliberately, and with purpose. He didn't sit in a wood, but there were enough trees and scene and animals that the image was all too perfect for a moment of consideration. He sat a wrote about the trees and their swaying leaves or how the wind leaned on the grass. He wrote about how the birds chirped and the animals barked from their hiding places. Finally he wrote about the shadows, the sun, the air, the sky and how their energy and beauty fed Aerion. He closed the book.

Anlem stood up from the rock, storing his book back into his satchel and continuing on. His feet ached but he refrained from complaints. Anlem walked in silence; a smile on his face, the air enjoyed. He walked for about half an hour before nature became less like nature and he had an old, crude sign standing before him. The sign was made out of what could pass as petrified wood. It had been eaten through and parts had fallen off from the work of termites and weather. The writing on the sign was old and faded. It took a moment's study to find out what it said: Approaching Currilan. Anlem smiled. A town meant a tavern. After his walk, he could use a drink. Trusting the sign's honor, Anlem continued on his path. Soon enough he could see shops and homes in the distance and even sooner he arrived in Currilan.

Like all places in Eveamoor, Currilan was nothing impressive. The technology and the buildings were old; it felt as if he were stepping into the past. The people of Currilan, Anlem learned with a quick scan around, were tall and thin and weak looking. Some of them were short (though not dwarves) and looked just as thin or were alternatively muscular, but still hardly a threat. Anlem laughed inwardly at the sight of a Currilan man trying to lift a sword he had no business trying to wield and then again at another's attempt at running. He would have stopped and written, but he was thirsty now. After a little looking and a quick bit of directions, Anlem found the tavern. It was obscure and hidden, not because of some purposeful planning, but because it looked as old and similar as everything around it. He felt thirstier from the thought of drinking and his feet ached more from the though of sitting, but he made no complaints or comments. Anlem continued on to the tavern and entered.

Once inside, the dwarf was taken by surprise. Instead of a typical scene of hardy, drinking men, there was a group of severally injured people and a medical staff attending to them. Besides them, another man--who looked as exhausted as the others were defeated--sat heavily in a chair with a drink on its way. The only one who didn't look exhausted was a women who stood with a man lingering around her. The woman was large-breasted and was about average height--for humans, at least. Her hair was short and red and she carried a large sword with her. The sword was not only a pleasing surprise, but made the man next to her look weaker and subordinate. The man had straight brown hair and was clean shave, save for a bit on his chin. He was lean--the squirrel-y sort--an wore attire of reds and blacks. His clothing looked costly, but also older as they were becoming visibly worn. He resembled the people of Currilan, but instead had an air of capability around him. His glaive may have had something to do with that. When Anlem approached, he greeted them politely.

"Sorry to be bothersome, but if I may ask," he continued, "what's happened here?"
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