Snippet #2059758

Feylon felt all the tension in his body surge downwards as he relaxed on the chair. It had been a long time since he had the pleasure of a comfortable chair rather than the floor of his tent. He let his pack drop the the floor giving off a load thump. He was now as relaxed as he could be in a city filled with racist and hateful Nords. He had to always be alert for his kind was not taken too kindly in these parts. He knew in himself that if the Imperials had not done his family wrong he would be fighting for the Empire against these fools. Now however he had an oath to fill. He promised revenge for his plight and he was going to get it one way or another. For now, that meant keeping his head low and bearing the hate.

He heard then, the call of another elf a few tables away from him. He looked towards the band of people that clustered themselves around the table. At first he was weary. He had no idea who these people were. He decided against sitting with them with a small reply. "I have to decline your invitation dear elf. I have nigh enough time to dally around for the evening. I must take my leave now and setup camp outside the walls before it grows too dark for me to see." With that Feylon nodded and left the inn.

He headed straight out the gates and towards a clearing across the bridge. He set down his gear and hastily constructed his tiny 1 man tent and unfolded his bedroll. Not having enough money for anything was making his journey a lot tougher. At least he would get used to the freezing cold temperatures. If they didn't kill him first.