Terrsa–It was a small town east of Lethrunia, not sharing anywhere close in its lavish architecture or wealthy boundaries, though it was more welcoming than the city of the paladins.
In the dimly-lit tavern, the repetitive noise continued–tap, tap, tap. The restless boot of the one who sat at the wooden table continued tapping. The elven man was dressed in new clothes, with a dark-gray tunic covered by a black vest, his neck wrapped by a matching scarf.
His silver eyes stared towards nothing–tap, tap, tap.
The boisterous cheers of the drunken patrons of the establishment hardly registered to the elf's pointy ears, as if he was sunken so deep in thought, he was in an entirely different place.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Lorel."
