A Stranger Enters
The old run-down wooden door of the Green Dragon Inn swung open. Candle flames slowly dimmed as wind rushed passed them, then slowly brightened once more. A stranger to the Inn stood in the doorway with his long silver cloak which had an enormous hood that devoured his face. People stared as he entered the room. The mystery to what was under that cloak made people impatient, not knowing what to expect.
He slowly walked down to a very small cherrywood table in the corner. His hands raised to lower the hood of his cloak revealing a mans face – silver long hair reached to his shoulders and eyes blue like no others. No one had ever seen him before, yet some had the utmost strange feeling. Something about him was familiar.
The waitress came over. “Ey, May I offer yeh a drink…uhhh…excuse me, but what is your name again?”. The room became silent as he spoke with his low, booming voice. “It’s Faragorn.” She nodded and once again offered him a drink. He accepted with gratitude.
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The higher the rank I attain, the more humbly I behave. The greater my power, the less I exercise it. The richer my wealth, the more I give away. Thus I avoid envy, spite, and misery.
Last edited by Faragorn; 06-14-2004 at 07:32 PM.
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