Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20160228221959/@comment-6006054-20160308235420

(yay, my internet is behaving once again. Stupid storms)

Taervik ate his meal while listening to Trymir. It wasn't a bad speech, and Trymir was a man who understood the world. Understood it didn't care, knew that it didn't forgive.

Once Trymir and the meal were finished, Taervik opened the book and began reading. A few seconds later he grimaced, glaring at the book. He had never been good at letters, and it had been many years since he had tried to read anything other than a simple sign. The first few sentences were being insurmountably troublesome, and the Exile had planned to finish the tome this evening. Perhaps he should have tempered ambition with some sense.

Taervik closed the book, sighing.