Illamen's page

Illamen wanders around, sampling a bit of this and a bit of that when the food comes on. The curry's nice, of course, but he takes another helping of the venison. The chowder, he abandons after a polite sampling. 'Ugh, fish,' the Elf grumbles to himself as he moves along, looking for some tasty bread to accompany his curry and venison.

Illamen listens to the tale and watches the children chasing the butterflies. He allows himself a brief smile; barely more than a quirk of the lips. 'Little kids ... cute.' Then his mood sours; he shakes his head and continues his perusal of the various stalls. 'Cute to look at. Not to have. Not yet. Not yet ...'

'Pretty speeches, flowery words, I suppose it's worthy of the occasion,' Illamen thinks to himself as he moves through the crowd. 'But if anything could convince me of an essential brotherhood of all species, it is the fact that all speeches by officials sound boring and seem to last longer than strictly necessary.'

The young elf is making his way between the stands, looking for some quality merchandise - specifically, good travelling rations; he ate his last one this morning - when he spots the storyteller with his juvenile audience.

Trying very hard not to be conspicuous, Illamen turns his back on the storyteller and starts to walk in another direction, trying to lose himself in the crowd. 'I really must buy a cloak with a hood,' he tells himself. 'Don't think I know him, don't think I ever saw him back home, but news travels. I'm not in the mood to talk to a kinsman so soon ...'

Illamen stands at the edge of the square and eyes the hustle and bustle from a distance. His clothes are worn and dusty from travelling cross-country, with more than a few patches visible. 'I should've bought a cloak with a wide hood,' he chides himself, self-consciously reaching up to check the tips of his ears are well-hidden under his hair. Making a face, he adds another thought: 'I should've saved some coppers so I could have a haircut.' Then again, long hair allows him to be just a little less conspicuous than he would otherwise be. The young elf sighs, and picks up his quarterstaff from where he'd leaned it against the wall. Feeling even more self-conscious, Illamen tries to get closer to the temple. He didn't travel all this way just to not be able to see and hear what's going on.

Presenting Illamen, Elven Wizard. As with most of my new characters, he's nearly broke. ^^

Umm. Could someone please tell me on which page of the beta test I can find the available languages ...?