Naeldor - Old Forums

As silence once again fall on the caves and only a trickle of blood from the last troll threatens to stain the floor where he fell Lindalas looks around himself with some introspective surprise.

"How on earth did I get here," he thinks to himself. "What happened to travelling the beautiful forests and seas? Didn't I just want to avenge my father? What strange course of events made me end up here, far beneath the earth, trying to help some dwarves? Worse still, our latest ally of sorts is a Drow!" Leaning his bow against the wall he rolls up his sleave and demonstratively pinches himself. "Nope, I guess I'm not asleep... or maybe I just dreamed I pinched myself."

Looking up he sees Asia studying him with an amuzed look. "Sorry Asia, just trying to figure out how a noble elf like myself ended up in this dark, humid dungeon." He opens up his backpack and takes out some pieces of metal. "Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as this mithril?" He asks no one in particular. "And this," he points to another bar of metal with a dark, almost magical sheen. "This must be that living metal they were talking about. I wonder why they call it living. It seems just as inert as any other metal I've seen." He closes up his backpack and picks up his bow again.

"Friends," he says and walks over towards the ramp down. "I believe we have some more trolls to deal with. Are we ready?"

With his one good eye squinted, Whipple watches Lindalas speak.

"Now you're talking. All you're mushy touchy-feely stuff was making my head spin. Let's put the fear of Whipple into those trolls!"

You can't help but notice, though, that Whipple slinks back to his customary spot at the rear of the group when he is finished his speech.