((Since I hope to do more of this plot I've decided to collect all the posts I have on it here and work on it))
A crumpled form of a miqo'te slumped outside of the quicksand in the alleyway to Pearl Lane. The clothes were nice and pressed. Nice attire. Nothing quite stolen or out of place.
However blood ran down his blood-drenched hair down his cheeks. His blue and red hair slicked and covered with glass shards and blood. His sword and his scutum lay by his side, the sword only just pulled out. Broken remains of a bottle or two lay strewn around the area. All evidence showed that at the very least the miqo'te had been hit in the head several times by more than one bottle. Crushed linkpearls lay near his blue furred and rumpled tail.
It seemed all might thought the miqo'te was dead or just a drunkard, getting in a fight at the wrong time. None stopped to help. None stopped to look at him except to spare a glance to make sure he was not going to mug them by pretending to be hurt.
But he wasn't dead at least.
With a groan and a blink the miqo'te started to return to consciousness. He looked around, wide eyed and confused. He took what he had and made his way out, stumbling and holding to whatever could keep him up as he headed out of the lane.
A crumpled form of a miqo'te slumped outside of the quicksand in the alleyway to Pearl Lane. The clothes were nice and pressed. Nice attire. Nothing quite stolen or out of place.
However blood ran down his blood-drenched hair down his cheeks. His blue and red hair slicked and covered with glass shards and blood. His sword and his scutum lay by his side, the sword only just pulled out. Broken remains of a bottle or two lay strewn around the area. All evidence showed that at the very least the miqo'te had been hit in the head several times by more than one bottle. Crushed linkpearls lay near his blue furred and rumpled tail.
It seemed all might thought the miqo'te was dead or just a drunkard, getting in a fight at the wrong time. None stopped to help. None stopped to look at him except to spare a glance to make sure he was not going to mug them by pretending to be hurt.
But he wasn't dead at least.
With a groan and a blink the miqo'te started to return to consciousness. He looked around, wide eyed and confused. He took what he had and made his way out, stumbling and holding to whatever could keep him up as he headed out of the lane.
