Tuesday, February 02, 2010


With golden hair, golden eyes, and cloth of gold, the Ageless Songmaster stands on the sea cliff. As always being at elemental boundaries made his marks tingle: the puff of wind at his collar, the waves encircling his calf, and the earth cross at his breast. The burden of being a Warder of E’Arles, the first of many, still weighed on him, as did the imprisonment of his wife at the hands of the Malsedrans. However, he knew that with his magic, his sword, and bow, as well as the other Warders, there was always hope for her safe return.

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