Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140602194217/@comment-24280666-20140603230502

"Yes but I have only used Magic in my life. Those who have not can do great things with swords. But alas, I am just an old elf who uses magic to stay young." Upon saying that, Ferrin realized that he could not keep up his spells. As he put his hands on his face, he felt sags. Lines. Wrinkles. That which an old mer should have. "My god..." He felt sudden weakness and hairs sprouting from his face. A beard. It was something like never before. He stood up and walked to his room. As he opened the door, he felt his back ache. Was it that after all this, his life would end by old age? He fell to the floor, the sudden loss of youth spells making him feel his age. He crawled to his bed and attempted to pull himself up to it. He could not. Slowly, he backed himself up against the bedside table and pushed with his feet. Miraculously, he was able to get up. He unceremoniously dumped himself onto his bed. He felt weaker than ever. He felt as if he had been punched by half a hundred orcs. It only got worse. As his age began to catch up with him, Ferrin grunted and attempted to reverse the effects. His efforts failed. Crying, Ferrin accepted the pain and just tried to sleep. His face had sprouted a long white beard. He began to feel... forgetful. Was that the word? He slowly closed his eyes, his memory of even the last few days fading. As the last few moments of today faded from him, his eyes closed.