For Anarrima and Yevaud
The man spent various seconds sucking on his fingertips, glancing around uneasily.
"That's right. I'm in charge. Exactly. That's how it is. In charge. Is what I am. Me." he rambled.
"Twenty-five? Twenty-seven are missing, they're bound to be dead. That... thing and her helpers, they should be dead! But they aren't! You heard that too, didn't you? You heard it. It's like a werewolf, and there's magic, too. Shadow magic, I've seen the man cast it from his fingertips. I almost died on the spot! And, oh! They have a drow too, if... they freed the prisoners. We're all going to die so as..."
He stopped, looking around again to make certain.
"As the superior unpromoted officer in charge of... letting people in and out..."
There was a nod, as he affirmed it himself.
"I say we might as well let you in. If you kill us we're no worse off, right? But if you're not with them then it's your own death too! So you can still run. But you won't. I'll open the gates then, will I?"
He disappeared from view, and before long a heavy metal grate was sliding up the grooves in the stone gatehouse.
[ 02-23-2005, 05:27 PM: Message edited by: Legolas ]
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