RE: Making Up for Lost Time
05-24-2016, 04:28 PM
Just as you notice them, the others begin to stir from their slumber. One by one they raise their heads groggily. The first is a beautiful woman in a pale-blue and gold sherwani. Her black hair falls in a tumble of loose braids over her hazel skin. A black, embroidered symbol on the left breast of her jacket seems alien to you. As she opens her eyes, you can see her irises are dark purple, almost black. You almost get lost in those eyes before she glances in your direction and you hurriedly shift your gaze towards one of the others, who is starting to rise. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her clutch her gauntleted hand and begin to remove the armor.
The next man is almost engulfed in his breastplate. If it hadn't started moving, you would have sworn somebody had just left the armor sitting on the chair. The armor is decorated with faded white paint and a few silver and gold decorations. Suddenly, a shock of red hair pops out of the neckline of the plate, quickly followed by the face of a young man, younger than anyone wearing that much metal should be. Beneath the hair you can barely see a pair of long-slender ears. He glances worriedly around before he spots you and ducks back into his shell. The sudden movement is too much for the chair and it cracks under the armor's weight, letting the boy land with a thud on the ground.
The sound rouses the third body in the chair to your right. After a quick jolt, the first motion this person makes is to pull a small flute from the folds of their vestments and blow a shrill, piercing tune. The note, although unpleasant, wakes you up and somehow instills in you a sense of health, like a shot of espresso without sugar or cream. After the last echoes of the note disappear, the flutist swings up in their chair, flings their cloak off their chest and leans across the table to the woman in blue. Only now do you recognize her as a woman. Her blonde hair is tied in ribbons of varying colors, keeping it out of her bright and beaming face. She glances excitedly around the table and finally settles her gaze on you. She leaps forward, nearly toppling her chair and flipping the table, knocking over all the drinks and a few of the candles, sending them rolling to the floor. She extends a hand, "Leslie Noel at your service! Greatest musician and teller of tall-tales in twelve territories!"
Now what?
The next man is almost engulfed in his breastplate. If it hadn't started moving, you would have sworn somebody had just left the armor sitting on the chair. The armor is decorated with faded white paint and a few silver and gold decorations. Suddenly, a shock of red hair pops out of the neckline of the plate, quickly followed by the face of a young man, younger than anyone wearing that much metal should be. Beneath the hair you can barely see a pair of long-slender ears. He glances worriedly around before he spots you and ducks back into his shell. The sudden movement is too much for the chair and it cracks under the armor's weight, letting the boy land with a thud on the ground.
The sound rouses the third body in the chair to your right. After a quick jolt, the first motion this person makes is to pull a small flute from the folds of their vestments and blow a shrill, piercing tune. The note, although unpleasant, wakes you up and somehow instills in you a sense of health, like a shot of espresso without sugar or cream. After the last echoes of the note disappear, the flutist swings up in their chair, flings their cloak off their chest and leans across the table to the woman in blue. Only now do you recognize her as a woman. Her blonde hair is tied in ribbons of varying colors, keeping it out of her bright and beaming face. She glances excitedly around the table and finally settles her gaze on you. She leaps forward, nearly toppling her chair and flipping the table, knocking over all the drinks and a few of the candles, sending them rolling to the floor. She extends a hand, "Leslie Noel at your service! Greatest musician and teller of tall-tales in twelve territories!"
Now what?