[Halbereth Diagona]

The stranger paid no heed to her. He gave the dagger another bored look. They seemed to be his speciality.
"Gypsy elf, am I?"
He raised his palm towards Himelilek.
"Don't know anything, don't I?"
From his palm shot a great jet of fire. It set alight the stump on which Himelilek was sitting and it shot up in flames. Himelilek's terrified face could be seen in them. The elf shot another jet, this time of water, which lifted Himelilek up. Then he summoned a gust of wind and blew her to the very top of a tree.
"This isn't funny. Get me down."
The stranger lowered his palm and Himelilek hurtled to the ground, stopping a few centimetres and swooping down to land.
"I can do much more than that. I think you'll find I'm a dangerous person to be an enemy to. I did warn you that I was descended from Namien."
>BTW, Namien was the most evil elf in history<
"A direct descendant. So no more 'gypsy elf' from you. I'm closer to the royal bloodline than you'll ever be."
The thing was, Amanalkarion, the stranger, knew in his heart that he was a gypsy, a traveller at least.But he shook off the thought. He was the great-great-great-great-great grandson of Namien on his mother's side, and he was proud of that. Still an ache tugged in his heart, because knew that when he was called a gypsy, everyone was right. All his family had been travellers. But he had a bloodline, a good one, so he couldn't let one, silly little elf get to him. Stupid feelings...they were always getting in his way. He wished he could just do away with them. And he wished with all his heart that Kalia were there.
"And," he added. "I'll thank you not to rip my cloak." And with a quick few elvish words whilst holding something at his chest, he mended the rent.

[ July 15, 2002: Message edited by: Halbereth Diagona ]