Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160405011238/@comment-5824038-20160514154645

Glorfindel looked over at the new arrival, and examined him up and down. A traveller, it would seem, by the look of his worn and faded clothing. A lance. That was interesting. A very rare weapon, even before the collapse. Exactly how old was this man? If he was competent with such a weapon. he must either have a very good aptitude for picking up fighting styles, or he was old enough to have been trained to use it properly.

He had a slight feeling that he knew this man. Or, at the very least, knew of him. A traveller. With a lance. Who tracked across the desert for days, weeks, months, even years. Perhaps it was in a song, or a poem, or some other form of tale-telling. But what did any of that matter? He was here, now.