- Messages
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- Character Biography
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For as cutthroat as she was with everyone else, she sure was just the sweetest black licorice to him. Kilien canted his head to look at her, smiling warmly back. How she volunteered to do just about anything and everything with him could not be further from where they started.
Her professing that they would never be friends.
At least she still used his last name. The more things changed...
He stood, shifted over to her, and wrapped his long arms around her, hugging her so snugly to him that when he leaned back her boots would lift off the ship deck.
"You're a peach," he pressed a smooch into her cheek as he held her aloft. Another. And another.
He'd teach her anything she wanted to know.
~~~
"This... this is where... we'll be staying," stated Tafinn, breathlessly, as their long, long, looooong walk from the docks up to the upper levels of the merchant district finally came to a slow pause. The distance wasn't the issue here, but even Kilien would admit that the grade of the slope that met their steps was more than he'd expected. Dumb to think Elbion would be on level ground when it was built along the side of a mountain. The various districts seemed to be carved into giant terraces that span the entire width of the city.
The streets wove elegantly between quarters in looped hairpin turns that climbed the levels.
For those on foot there were steps.
So many steps.
Vel Anir was flat as one of Vittoria's pancakes compared to this. No wonder everyone here had massive calves.
Tafinn, heavily winded, swayed a languishing hand toward the sign of a rather prim looking building: The Marigold Inn. Its whitewashed walls were elegantly hand-painted with golden flowers to match the carved and gilded sign hung just over the main entrance. Every window had a flowerbox of - you guessed it - marigolds. Bright and blooming and giving his nose an awful tickle.
"How far are we from the college?" Kilien asked as he shifted his and Vittoria's traveling cloaks from one arm to the other. They'd gotten rather warm on the trek up.
"About half as far as we've already come," Tafinn nodded and blew out his cheeks, "but we'll have more luck catching a carriage here."
Down at the warf there had been lots of catch-carts but apparently they'd arrived during the midday surge. Not an empty cart in sight. So they walked. Kilien didn't mind but his feet would be grateful for a break.
"Take this inside to the front desk," Tafinn said, withdrawing a mildly crumpled scroll and handing it to Vittoria, "it has the reservations. I need... a few minutes to catch my breath."
Her professing that they would never be friends.
At least she still used his last name. The more things changed...
He stood, shifted over to her, and wrapped his long arms around her, hugging her so snugly to him that when he leaned back her boots would lift off the ship deck.
"You're a peach," he pressed a smooch into her cheek as he held her aloft. Another. And another.
He'd teach her anything she wanted to know.
~~~
"This... this is where... we'll be staying," stated Tafinn, breathlessly, as their long, long, looooong walk from the docks up to the upper levels of the merchant district finally came to a slow pause. The distance wasn't the issue here, but even Kilien would admit that the grade of the slope that met their steps was more than he'd expected. Dumb to think Elbion would be on level ground when it was built along the side of a mountain. The various districts seemed to be carved into giant terraces that span the entire width of the city.
The streets wove elegantly between quarters in looped hairpin turns that climbed the levels.
For those on foot there were steps.
So many steps.
Vel Anir was flat as one of Vittoria's pancakes compared to this. No wonder everyone here had massive calves.
Tafinn, heavily winded, swayed a languishing hand toward the sign of a rather prim looking building: The Marigold Inn. Its whitewashed walls were elegantly hand-painted with golden flowers to match the carved and gilded sign hung just over the main entrance. Every window had a flowerbox of - you guessed it - marigolds. Bright and blooming and giving his nose an awful tickle.
"How far are we from the college?" Kilien asked as he shifted his and Vittoria's traveling cloaks from one arm to the other. They'd gotten rather warm on the trek up.
"About half as far as we've already come," Tafinn nodded and blew out his cheeks, "but we'll have more luck catching a carriage here."
Down at the warf there had been lots of catch-carts but apparently they'd arrived during the midday surge. Not an empty cart in sight. So they walked. Kilien didn't mind but his feet would be grateful for a break.
"Take this inside to the front desk," Tafinn said, withdrawing a mildly crumpled scroll and handing it to Vittoria, "it has the reservations. I need... a few minutes to catch my breath."
