Illarion.org

A NOTE IS PINNED NEXT TO THE TAVERN DOOR

My reddened eyes
Have grown to black
Reflecting in the water
They stare lifelessly back

My dulled gray skin
Now transforms to white
For pain now occurs
If it enters the light

Once a happy member
Of the Elven race
It seems I have fallen
From all the God’s grace

My emotions now absent
Gone forever
No longer feelings
Shall I have to endeavor

For now I must go
I must take my leave
Tis what I must do
Tis what I believe

My friends, do not look
Or try to seek me
For I have forgotten you
And shall assault thee

I travel northwards
And with my last breath
Warn thee all I shall return
And bring perhaps your death

~~Arkadia Misella~~
~~Lost Soul~~

Paul looks at the new message.

What a... happy poem...

*a dark elf wanders by reading the note. When done, he sits down on the ground and picks up his pipe from his chest-pocket. He fills it with strong tobacco and lightens it. There he sits, smoking his pipe and his thoughts flies away*

A note is pinned under Arkadias.


Tho you will probably nay read these words I shall leave them here any how. What sad words indeed, but the way in which they are writen does tell me there is still passion for life an things of beauty Arkadia. After all why go to the trouble of creating such a written piece as you have done so.

My friends, do not look
Or try to seek me
For I have forgotten you
And shall assault thee

I admit I have not known you long, but what are friends if not to look for a lost one. What are they if not to rekindle lost memorys and what are they if they can not turn the other cheek. T'is simple, they are not a friend.

We are what we are there is no denieing that, but this is not you..I am sure of it. Strike me down if I apporach you, but I will stand again and turn the other cheek.

Drathe

Drathe wrote: What are they if not to rekindle lost memorys and what are they if they can not turn the other cheek. T'is simple, they are not a friend.


Strike me down if I apporach you, but I will stand again and turn the other cheek.

Drathe

Paul frowns.

No one ever turned the other cheek for me...

Hi

Paul, maybe you hang out with the wrong people??

Deats

I just think that actions speak louder than words.

A drunken hobbit vomits on the parchment before writing in a scrawled mess, you make out the words ...

An thats thend o' that chapter!