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As the mysterious man approached, she could not help but utter a small laugh, of course nothing came out of her mouth, no she had years to practice years to perfect this, the amulet took care of all of that now. She turned from the Miqote and looked at the Elezen.
Weather or not she could see through his facad she did not show, but she did not look helpless nor did she seem even the least bit intimidated or taken off guard in any way.
"You wish to know more?" There was almost a humorous tone to her voice. She seemed disinterested in formalities and introductions.
She had told this story in so many ways, to so many people. She grew bored of it now. Sometimes she would lie, tell a grand tale of fabrication. It depended on who was asking, and what sort of mood she was in. She took a long hard look at the man infront of her. He was clearly not here for the company, so she would weave no such tale today.
"It’s a speech aid, if you must know." She turned her back to him slightly.
"Only, it transmits ALL…of your thoughts…into words.â€Â
That was the long and short of it. Azreiel's trade mark necklace, an item many have thought about for generations was litterly a transmitter of thoughts. The item gifted to her from the preistest Dweia when she was 30 years of age, a life time ago, was much more sinister than she had thought. Everything she dared to think, everything that crossed her mind was transmitted into word. It had taken her a lifetime to learn to control it, rather than allowing it to control her. She had gained a reputation as a loud mouth, a villain, a vulgar old wretch even in her thirties. They had told her ‘Azreiel learn to control what you say!’ the truth was, she could not…not until she was much older.
“Not just the ones you’d like it to…and not just the ones you choose.â€Â
So, either she had very little on her mind, or she had learnt to control her thoughts through meditation and generations of concentration and skill. Well, actually it was a little of both.
Then of course, there was the question of....why...why did she nee dsuch a thing?
Weather or not she could see through his facad she did not show, but she did not look helpless nor did she seem even the least bit intimidated or taken off guard in any way.
"You wish to know more?" There was almost a humorous tone to her voice. She seemed disinterested in formalities and introductions.
She had told this story in so many ways, to so many people. She grew bored of it now. Sometimes she would lie, tell a grand tale of fabrication. It depended on who was asking, and what sort of mood she was in. She took a long hard look at the man infront of her. He was clearly not here for the company, so she would weave no such tale today.
"It’s a speech aid, if you must know." She turned her back to him slightly.
"Only, it transmits ALL…of your thoughts…into words.â€Â
That was the long and short of it. Azreiel's trade mark necklace, an item many have thought about for generations was litterly a transmitter of thoughts. The item gifted to her from the preistest Dweia when she was 30 years of age, a life time ago, was much more sinister than she had thought. Everything she dared to think, everything that crossed her mind was transmitted into word. It had taken her a lifetime to learn to control it, rather than allowing it to control her. She had gained a reputation as a loud mouth, a villain, a vulgar old wretch even in her thirties. They had told her ‘Azreiel learn to control what you say!’ the truth was, she could not…not until she was much older.
“Not just the ones you’d like it to…and not just the ones you choose.â€Â
So, either she had very little on her mind, or she had learnt to control her thoughts through meditation and generations of concentration and skill. Well, actually it was a little of both.
Then of course, there was the question of....why...why did she nee dsuch a thing?
![[Image: TforTALE-01_zps61a41eae.png]](http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e248/Azreiel/TforTALE-01_zps61a41eae.png)