|
Yevaud
The entire castle had become subdued, sound was nearly nonexistent except for the quiet voices or Ana and the defeated tones of Marcos. The soldiers were quiet, waiting for any sign of action to prove their value. They were demoralized by the previous day, revitalized by the morning, but the temper of their spirits was unknowable. With firm leadership they would be kept taut and functional. Yevaud himself felt fatigue pulling away at his alertness, and while elves do not sleep in the same manner as mortal men do, they have a need for rest and have similar limits before they must cease action and take reverie. Yevaud was fighting this need and losing the battle as his wits began to cloud and his eyes began to droop.
"Halt! Identify yourself, elf!"
A cry from within the tower. He tore at the fog, slashing it away and clearing his head. He glanced nervously around and pointed at three of the guards who were in the main room. Two were armed with pole-arms and the third had a crossbow "You men come with me." He then began sprinting in the direction of the call. He would not allow the drow to escape in magical disguise, and if he had to take him down before the vile creatures spell was broken, it would be a pleasure to bag his first drow. A grim smile touched his lips as he said "We're hunting drow men, don't be fooled by it's illusions."
OOC: the above post describes events as Yevaud sees them (especially his view of the men's morale and how they are feeling) not necessarily as they are.
|