Dark Cloud — Roleplayer Guild

[ A L W E N ]

The tome made a crisp snapping sound as the necromancer noticed the serving imp slowly flitting towards his table, Alwen set his book on the smooth polished wood of the table as the creature neared. 

He quickly reached for the bottle in the fiends little hands, it was no wonder it took it a few minutes to get there and back "A glass, not a bottle." sighing as he placed the bottle of sherry on the table, Alwen handed the tiny creature the appropriate amount of alms and waved it away "Off with you, and do tell your master to teach you to take orders in a less literal sense."

Alwen didn't sound as haughty as his words made him sound, he was more exasperated at the shoddy skills of a fellow practitioner not teaching their servants proper commands. But that was neither here nor there, shrugging off his disappointment the necromancer who was no slouch in other fields of magic rubbed his hands together.

It was child's play to conjure an object, especially something as simple as a glass. The words came to him , memorized and practiced and in but a moment a small wine glass materialized in his hands. He smiled, admiring it for a moment before setting it on the table. Though he was a necromancer by practice, he could ill afford to leave other fields of magic to be left outside his knowledge.

Alwen unstoppered the bottle and with a pop of the cork he poured the iced sherry into his glass. Not to the brim mind you, he could not study if he were halfway into a bottle of wine. Thus he sipped his drink gingerly, carefully flipping through the tome in front of him to find where he left off.

Ah yes, the theory of negative energy and its applications to the soul. This would be an interesting read indeed.

[ A L W E N ]

In the corner of the tavern, behind all the commotion and raucous activity sat a thin and almost demure man in dark woolen robes with a main of dark raven locks that fell over his colorless eyes as they scanned the tome held tightly in his hands.

An imp floated a few feet from him idly, a glassy look upon its ugly face as it awaited his command. Alwen had nearly forgotten he had yet to order something to drink, he had been so lost in his studies he'd forgotten to get something to wet his thirst.

"A sherry if you will." he said waving the imp away, eyes still glued to the pages of the grimoire. Studies of negative energy and the effect it had on the living fascinated a necromancer such as himself oh so very much.

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