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Landristin's eyes blinked open, as his hands spread out to his sides on the large plush bed. It took a moment for him to realize precisely where he was, but as he did, he simply sighed. A throbbing sensation filled his stomach, hungry, and thirsty, he shuffled his feet from the bed to the floor. It had been a long night, and despite all that he consumed, his mouth was dry as a bone, and he was left craving a drink. Was it time for breakfast? It sure felt like it.
He craned his head around the room to find his clothes, and as he did, the inescapable sound of "thump-thump, thump-thump" seemed deafening to his aching head. Who in the world is pounding in the hallway at this hour, he asked himself. Growing agitated, he quickly slipped into his clothes, and strapped on his boots to find out the source of this ruckus. As he rose from the comfortable bed, he was determined who ever was making the noise that woke him from a dead sleep was going to get a good ear full. However, by the time he made it to the door, and peeked down the hallway, only the sight of a young man walking away from him, towards the stairwell greeted him. "Lucky for him, I don't have the energy to chase him down at this hour," he muttered to himself.
Walking back in the room to collect the rest of his gear, he couldn't help but think to himself that last night's gathering was enjoyable. It is always good seeing friends, especially when you've believed them to be dead or otherwise destroyed. It had gone far too late for his liking, and he had obviously drank too much again. Picking up his staff, he notices a broken vial on the floor. Ah... yes... the potion that the harlot had sold him. He remembers it being the only thing he had on him to drink before going to bed last night, but obviously this one was tainted or a fake, because it did nothing for him, and he threw the vial to the floor after spitting out it's vile taste. The harlot, what was her name.... he sighed. Landristin then wonders if she had tried to poison him.
Landristin secured the room, and walked downstairs, hoping to find a servant or wench to fetch him something to drink. The room was filled with the normal traffic for the hour, but he elected just to get out of there, and get on with his business for the day. As he walked by, several of the servers only offered him a slight smile, and in return, he mostly ignored their gestures, and scraped some dried piece of goo from his eye. Today is going to be a long day, he thought to himself.
As he made his way to the front door, and slowly opened it. The glare of the mid-morning sun poured into the room, and his eyes winced shut. "Gods, what time is it....?" he asked aloud, mostly to himself. With a thud of the door, he concluded he had not entirely slept off the night before. Back to bed, that glorious big plush bed, which seemed to be calling his name. Deciding he would sleep a few more hours before going back to the city, Landristin turned, and slowly crept up the stairs back to his room.
((#Lotus, #latenightgathering))
He craned his head around the room to find his clothes, and as he did, the inescapable sound of "thump-thump, thump-thump" seemed deafening to his aching head. Who in the world is pounding in the hallway at this hour, he asked himself. Growing agitated, he quickly slipped into his clothes, and strapped on his boots to find out the source of this ruckus. As he rose from the comfortable bed, he was determined who ever was making the noise that woke him from a dead sleep was going to get a good ear full. However, by the time he made it to the door, and peeked down the hallway, only the sight of a young man walking away from him, towards the stairwell greeted him. "Lucky for him, I don't have the energy to chase him down at this hour," he muttered to himself.
Walking back in the room to collect the rest of his gear, he couldn't help but think to himself that last night's gathering was enjoyable. It is always good seeing friends, especially when you've believed them to be dead or otherwise destroyed. It had gone far too late for his liking, and he had obviously drank too much again. Picking up his staff, he notices a broken vial on the floor. Ah... yes... the potion that the harlot had sold him. He remembers it being the only thing he had on him to drink before going to bed last night, but obviously this one was tainted or a fake, because it did nothing for him, and he threw the vial to the floor after spitting out it's vile taste. The harlot, what was her name.... he sighed. Landristin then wonders if she had tried to poison him.
Landristin secured the room, and walked downstairs, hoping to find a servant or wench to fetch him something to drink. The room was filled with the normal traffic for the hour, but he elected just to get out of there, and get on with his business for the day. As he walked by, several of the servers only offered him a slight smile, and in return, he mostly ignored their gestures, and scraped some dried piece of goo from his eye. Today is going to be a long day, he thought to himself.
As he made his way to the front door, and slowly opened it. The glare of the mid-morning sun poured into the room, and his eyes winced shut. "Gods, what time is it....?" he asked aloud, mostly to himself. With a thud of the door, he concluded he had not entirely slept off the night before. Back to bed, that glorious big plush bed, which seemed to be calling his name. Deciding he would sleep a few more hours before going back to the city, Landristin turned, and slowly crept up the stairs back to his room.
((#Lotus, #latenightgathering))