A chime rings out, a head moves to bow. Down on their knees, head to the
floor. Another chime rings out, the figure moving back up, chanting softly
before shifting back to resting his head almost to the floor. A third chime
rings, the figure stands up. His head shaved, but before you stands Falkas.
The halfling more then literally half the size of his peers. An odd anomaly
of the monastery, always feeling as if he was literally looked down on. He
did his best to be respectable, keep his head down, and do his share of
chores. He quietly moved away from the shrine, heading to his morning
practices. Going through the various forms of the stances as the sun moved
across the sky. At its zenith, it was time to begin his chores. He humbly
did his duties, before it was time for the meal. A simple bowl of rice with
fire roasted meat and tea. He went about to finish his chores before it was
time for individual study. Falkas spent his time in the library, reading
about the various parts of the land. T felt like it wasn't long before a
bell rang out, signaling time for evening practices. Afterwards, a cool
down period of flexibility exercises preceded a small simple dinner. Then
off to bed in a simple mat bed with a hay pillow and a thin blanket. Years
of this schedule left the halfling for something more, some deep desire. He
knew there was a monastery beyond his, and he could train there and be apart
of the realm. After preparing, and making ready, he took his venture.
Leaving a simple letter to the abbot in his room, to seek whatever his heart
desired.
Description:
Short, tangled locks of muddy brown coat this short figure's head. He
has deep, dark bags under his eyes, as if he doesn't sleep much. His face
is round, almost child with the vestiges of fat clinging to his cheekbones.
His nose is soft, rounded, much like a button as it seems just a bit
squashed onto him. His ears hide inside the mop of hair, only the lobes
poking out of the mess. His skin tanned, most likely due to being out under
the sun. His body seems to be lithe, with his clothing being loose enough
to move with flexibility and comfort. His lips are tugged into a cheerful
smile, as there is a slight twinkle in his green eyes.
1- 0- 0 Avenar the Holy Patriarch of Healing (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Kryton the Battlemaster (Fought at rank 50) 2- 1- 0 Iliandra the Holy Shaman (Fought at rank 50) 2- 2- 0 Tiram the Wrath of Nature (Fought at rank 50) 2- 0- 0 Rethel the Shadow Master of the Marama Kuei (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Kilni the Holy Shaman (Fought at rank 50) 2- 1- 0 Ulmus the Battlemaster (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Foggledonk the Sage of Arcane Power (Fought at rank 50) 0- 2- 0 Militha the Unholy Knight (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Wylsin the Sage of Arcane Power (Fought at rank 50) 1- 0- 0 Scerelaen the Holy Patriarch of Healing (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Dwiggans the Holy Knight (Fought at rank 50) 1- 0- 0 Kaeryn the Holy Knight (Fought at rank 50) 2- 0- 1 Koethar the Volcano of Infinite Rage (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Peemo the Sage of Arcane Power (Fought at rank 50) 1- 1- 0 Savanti the Wrath of Nature (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Werig the Sage of Arcane Power (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Skeggi the Volcano of Infinite Rage (Fought at rank 50) 0- 1- 0 Thandus the Holy Knight (Fought at rank 50) 1- 2- 0 Griremas the Volcano of Infinite Rage (Fought at rank 50) 0- 2- 0 Quinace the Grand Master of Seasons (Fought at rank 50)
Just want to say thank you to Dav for helping me out when I was starting. And to Quinace, you're going to do great, sorry I couldn't be there like I said I would be.
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known
Quinace 6 , 0 , 0 . Roads go ever ever on,
[reply to Falkas]Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known
Quinace 0 , 0 , 0 . Words are for everyone to use. Valindra 1 , 0 , 0 . I meant I was going to put it in the Mystique as an obituary for your friend. Falkas 2 , 0 , 0 . I would advise against that, it is a poem by Tolkien Quinace 0 , 0 , 0 . What Falkas said, not sure why he didn't use this one in the Hobbit instead.
[reply to Valindra][reply to Davairus]
Valindra 1 , 0 , 0 . I ceded my thunder to Foggledonk ages ago; now I can hardly work up a nice drizzle. Quinace 1 , 0 , 0 . I forgot that the Consortium is a union gig. Foggledonk 2 , 0 , 0 . Val, be it rap or rhyme, you're never short of sublime.
[reply to Naerhzhor]You inspire me with your lingual mastery.