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[ Draelmar Hold] Tarfuss' Room - a Horrible Noise - [open]
30 Immanis XV pf
Tarfuss stomped into his room after Rosyun. The meal had been unremarkable. It seemed that they ate the same thing everyday. It was winter, after all, he conceded as he sat down on his bunk after putting his armor on the stand and removing his sword belt and boots. There wasn't exactly a huge influx of produce to make lovely diverse meals. And then there were the losses of foodstuffs incurred during the war and the destruction that followed. He grimaced at the thought. Mystery meat stew was at least food, and for that he was glad.
He took out a slender instrument and looked at it without much expression. He had been trying to learn how to play, but had had little time. He twirled the slender tube through his fingers, looking at it with not a little skepticism. He put it to his lips and played a short simple melody, tinged with a few misplaced notes and a squeak or two. He thought back to other times playing; in the rubble of Paxia, in the woods outside Prime, on a march with Eyvind and some others out of Prime on some adventure of Redbeard's.
He put the Faedog Stain back to his lips and began to play again, this time with more care, illiciting a more musical response from the instrument.
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CIR
Bona Na Croin
"You are Legionnaires in order to die. I am sending you where you can die." French General
Last edited by Tarfuss; August 5, 2008 at 06:51 PM.
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