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Morbion looks quizzically at Jerry. I fail to comprehend your inquisitorial remark. Oh wait, are you making a joke? That amuses me. Comprehension dawns upon Morbion and you see that his facial features reveal only a trace of what might be considered a smile. You refer to my appearance that differs from most of our kind. I hardly notice anymore.
A "human" with pupil-less silver eyes, flawless tanned skin and golden blond hair that appears to be blown about by the wind (even though there is no wind present), steps into the room. His stoic facial features belie his enthusiasm as he approaches the group present. He is outfitted in plate mail that is polished to a brilliant sheen. The symbol of The Light of the Sword adorns his shield. It is pleasant to the senses to be in the presence of so many like-minded individuals. Having traveled for many weeks, seeking to free the undead of their earthly bonds, it gratifies me to be able to rest, even for a moment. The godtouched individual seeks out refreshment before sitting down upright in a nearby chair... |
