Snippet #2782613

located in Sevaecia, a part of The Knights of Artorias, one of the many universes on RPG.

Sevaecia

A beautiful place with history forgotten.

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Character Portrait: Khilith Hruind
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Khilith was dreaming about flying again. Well, he wasn't sure if flying was accurate; it was more like he was simply in the air while the world moved beneath him. He could feel the wind on his face and taste the vapor in the clouds as he floated. In front of him, a peak; at the peak, a cave. But as he approached the cave, something prodded him in the side, hard, and Khilith's dream shattered back into reality.

"Hey you, you can't sleep here!" came a voice from his side. Khilith slowly became aware he was lying in an alleyway, slumped against one of the walls. He slowly rose, willing his tired eyes to make sense of the scenery. What had happened last night after the fifth bar? Had he made it to a sixth? Khilith raised his eyes to meet those of the man who had poked him: a middle-aged street guard by the looks of it, and the staff the guard held in one hand being the culprit of the jab.

"...Wait, uh... what exactly are you?" the street guard asked, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion as he stared into Khilith's face. "I thought you were an orc but... those scales."

Khilith sighed, and began to examine the handful of bottles lying about him. Perhaps one would... Ah, but no luck. They were indeed all quite empty. He returned his attention to the guard, who had backed away to the mouth of the alleyway.

"Look, whatever you are, don't make trouble, you hear?" the guard said nervously. "We can't have people just sleeping out on the streets. If you need a place to stay, there's many an inn in town, and many'll take work for payment, you hear?"

"Indeed, good sir," Khilith said, his deep voice amicable as he slowly rose to his feet, one hand to his head as he strove to shake off the headache. "It seems, however, that I may have drank a bit too much the night before. I apologize for the trouble. I meant no harm, as I'm sure you did not in waking me."

The guard relaxed visibly. "Ah, yes, we've all been there. May I ask your reason for being in town?"

"I came to join the Knights," Khilith said, brushing himself off in a vain attempt to make himself presentable. He frowned at the obvious stains on his dark clothing, and sighed again. "I am to attend the entrance ceremony."

"Then you'd best hurry," the guard said, laughing. "The ceremony begins in just over an hour, and they'll want you on time."

"I guess that leaves no time for another drink," Khilith muttered. "Thank you, friend, I'll be on my way."

The guard stepped aside as Khilith walked (or stumbled) out of the alleyway and towards the castle, where the ceremony would be held. Perhaps by the time he arrived, his headache would subside.