Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20131124195016/@comment-5735114-20131125025739

(Alright, I might as well write Garvut's story before going to sleep. This may or may not be edited tomorrow morning.)

Garvut, after being forgotten by his 'friends' for what seemed like the millionth time, was wandering the roads towards Riften, hoping to find a stray merchant. He was getting hungry, hopefully said merchant would have food. Garvut walked for another boring hour, night was setting in and he had started to become cold. He sighed and checked inside his pockets if he had anything to keep him warm, he had shedded his armor some time back. What he had instead found were rabbit legs, but even so, they were uncooked. It wouldn't make a difference, Garvut hated them anyways. As he was looking down at the rabbit leg, something on the side of the road had caught his attention. It was a book. Garvut picked it up, it had some strange symbol of a hand on the front. Even though he could hardly read, Garvut opened the book and looked at the symbols within. Even he knew it wasn't regular words; his hands were becoming warm. Dropping the book in semi-panic, Garvut saw flames erupt from his hands. "AAAAHHHH! MY H... MY HANDS ARE.... ON FIRE!!" His sudden realization had stopped him from noticing he felt no pain. After another few minute's worth of screaming, Garvut had a cooked rabbit leg in his hand. Even though he hated them, Garvut needed food, and he slowly began nibbling at the leg, still cautiously aware his hands did indeed contain fire. After burning himself a log, Garvut went to sleep on the warmer than usual ground.

(Ugh. I can't be bothered to write the rest. I'll finish it up tomorrow, if it doesn't drown in the sea of text... Goodnight, you bastards.)