Post by Edrilith on Oct 20, 2004 21:03:07 GMT -5
I have spent the past several years among the Tier Dal of the Green Rift, and not by choice. The Dragoons find great pleasure in tormenting me with tales of my parents, and how their health grows frail since they believe me to be dead. They also enjoy mocking my half-breed looks -- an elf with the black hair and black eyes of an erudite.
It is no matter. I am young and strong, and the dark elves know me to be a good laborer. I truly believe they would have killed me by now if they wanted to, but there seems to be some higher purpose in keeping me alive.
I am young still and know little of this vast world. Some day I will find a way to escape my captors and let my parents know I am alive!
But until then, the sun rises and there is work to be done...
It is no matter. I am young and strong, and the dark elves know me to be a good laborer. I truly believe they would have killed me by now if they wanted to, but there seems to be some higher purpose in keeping me alive.
I am young still and know little of this vast world. Some day I will find a way to escape my captors and let my parents know I am alive!
But until then, the sun rises and there is work to be done...
