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"What?"
She faced him, and then drained her goblet. "My father. He's back."
* * *
Oh, frail city…
An empty plain it was, beneath an empty sky, yes. Weak, flickering fire nested deep in its ring of charred stones, now little more than ebbing coals. A night, a hearth, and a tale now spun, spun out.
'Has thou ever seen Kruppe dance?'
'No. I think not. Not by limb, not by word.'
'Then, my friends, settle yourselves this night. And witness…'
And so they did. Bard and Elder God, and oh how Kruppe danced.
This post has been edited by Bre'nigan: 07 January 2010 - 08:16 PM