Post by Luka on Apr 6, 2006 18:26:36 GMT -5
It was a colder day than most. The frigid wind was strangely icy for a day so near springtime, but Mother Nature had always had a fickle temperament in these parts. In any case, most people were forced to just bear it and hide from the burning cold, protecting themselves with woolen scarves and mittens. Thus, a cloaked traveler whose attire would have been oddly out of place in different circumstances went unnoticed among the bustling streets of Drakborough.
His tall figure was swathed in a long, dark-colored cloak, its hem just brushing the ground. The hood had been brought up over his head, hiding his face within its shadowed folds. It was not fear that caused this one to conceal himself, at least not because of his own fear. The fact that humans struck out at things they did not understand was something that had been proven time and time again, and his kind were most definitely misunderstood more often than not. In any case, he would have drawn unwanted attention from the locals had he decided to waltz into a town openly, muggle or otherwise.
The traveler had no idea whether this town sheltered muggles, wizards, or both; and truth be told, he distinguished little between the two groups. They made the same kind of actions and made the same kind of mistakes, no matter what they wanted to believe. Humans often held the kind of superiority that led them to believe harming those they considered lesser than themselves was justified. This pattern of thought was also repeated throughout history time and time again. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. The idea seemed sound. Hurt those who have hurt you, payment for payment. But how many times should retaliation take place before enough was enough? What can one pay to stop the never ending cycle? This the traveler did not know, the one answer he did not have. In his search for the answer, he surrendered himself to the fates. Now he wandered the world, and today he found himself in Drakborough.
Turning, his gaze landed on the local bar. He decided to head there first, for interesting news often gathered in places with plenty to drink. The traveler himself despised alcohol, but surely there were alternatives available. Pushing open the door and wincing a little when a bell rung overhead, he found a quiet spot in a corner where he could sit and observe without being too conspicuous.
His tall figure was swathed in a long, dark-colored cloak, its hem just brushing the ground. The hood had been brought up over his head, hiding his face within its shadowed folds. It was not fear that caused this one to conceal himself, at least not because of his own fear. The fact that humans struck out at things they did not understand was something that had been proven time and time again, and his kind were most definitely misunderstood more often than not. In any case, he would have drawn unwanted attention from the locals had he decided to waltz into a town openly, muggle or otherwise.
The traveler had no idea whether this town sheltered muggles, wizards, or both; and truth be told, he distinguished little between the two groups. They made the same kind of actions and made the same kind of mistakes, no matter what they wanted to believe. Humans often held the kind of superiority that led them to believe harming those they considered lesser than themselves was justified. This pattern of thought was also repeated throughout history time and time again. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. The idea seemed sound. Hurt those who have hurt you, payment for payment. But how many times should retaliation take place before enough was enough? What can one pay to stop the never ending cycle? This the traveler did not know, the one answer he did not have. In his search for the answer, he surrendered himself to the fates. Now he wandered the world, and today he found himself in Drakborough.
Turning, his gaze landed on the local bar. He decided to head there first, for interesting news often gathered in places with plenty to drink. The traveler himself despised alcohol, but surely there were alternatives available. Pushing open the door and wincing a little when a bell rung overhead, he found a quiet spot in a corner where he could sit and observe without being too conspicuous.