Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160726175355/@comment-28358106-20160727030636

(Praetor)

Praetor sees nothing but the road. No stirring catches his eye.

That is when Praetor realizes how tired he is. It has been so long since he has slept, and yet it has been even longer since he felt the sickening, aching, mind-numbing weariness he now feels. Weariness of not just the body. Weariness of the mimd, of the emotional drain. It is distant,  and yet now very close...

"I shall. But, my son, what is it you plan to do?" He asks. "Surely you cannot mean to go to them.  It will be night soon!  How will you..."

"Sir Praetor?"

An Elven Ranger comes up to the pair. "Lord Melandil wishes to speak with you, sera.  He is with your servants, in the royal quarter." He waits to see if you will go with him.

(Go with him?  Or stay on your own?)