Spur of the moment short.
A draft was coming in, the soft breeze cooling the room far more quickly than Vuert would have liked it. Slowly, he unwound himself from within the blanket before the fire and made his way towards the source of the breeze in his bedroom. As he walked along the corridors, his feet making hardly any noise upon the joists as he easily shifted his weight upon the balls of his feet, he wondered idly how that minor lord from Grestenberg would take the news he had delivered. That pompus fool would probably lose sleep for weeks.
A smile played out upon his thin lips, small wrinkles devoloping around his large black eyes. Those eyes had been a source of ridicule since his childhood, often causing fights and forcing his parents to flee to other villages only barely outrunning the shouts and hurled stones. But that had all changed. He had changed it, though he could not remember how or even when. He only knew, the rage had come. It often had in those days.
To be continued shortly, time for sleep. More ideas are welcome and any advice you might have. I am just having fun with this as I use the blog as my own personal hamster.
