"Decisions" (working title)
Lisa, it's very nice. By the way, what happened to your "Magic 8-Ball" pic?
“And you confuse me as well. What could you possibly find lacking in… my personal style?”
This is cute, but I'm biased against Anomen. :-)
Your shield is drooping and your stance is off balance.
Ah, the standard fantasy explanation given by experienced warriors to greenhorns. :-)
Yet there your armor sits, filthy and untended, cast off without a second thought.
I'm not sure that Anomen would actually refer to anything worn by CHARNAME as "filthy", since it implies that the object of his affections is less than clean. Still, it works well in your story.
No doubt those worries will soon be assuaged by a simpering, unseemly Drowish smile and some damned, lofty poem!
I'm almost tempted to side with Delryn here.
Bits and snatches of pastoral verse floated dreamily through his mind. This was bliss.
(cue country music) "Why is everybody always pickin' on me?"
“Oh… I-I’m so sorry!” Rhiann stammered, her eyes wide and her cheeks red.
Suddenly aware of his own nakedness, Solaufein backed sheepishly into the more comfortable, waist-high depths.
This is where it loses a bit of credibility for me. Stammered? Sheepish? Flustered? Is anyone over the age of 18 actually embarrassed when someone walks in one someone else unintentionally? Much less someone over the age of 180? Wise paladin and experienced drow do not strike me as the sort of people to make even a non-miniscule deal out of this, even if they secretly long for each other.
“I am so, so sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be… um… right.”
Rise up, Rhiann!
“Well of course not, he left while you were busy trouncing old pompos pants...
... so I took the opportunity to set you up with new broody pants.
“Good” She thought.
She needs more punctuation. :-)
extreme embarrassment
Rise up, Rhiann!
All those tedious talks about philosophy and morality? That’s not nice! That’s a man desperate to get your attention, at any cost.
... and Weimer is down for the count, unable to defend himself against this honest jibe.
“Fair?” Rhiann looked astounded. “Who said anything about fair? ...
Suddenly, Rhiann's voice deepened to a leathery gravel. "Well, who says life is fair? Where is that written? Life isn't always fair."
Imoen, sounding younger and more petulant than usual, retorted, "I'm telling you you're messing up the romance, now get it right!"
"Do you want me to go on with this?" Rhiann's voice held a note of waning patience.
"Yes," was Imoen's meek reply.
"All right, then. No more set-ups."
"Who tells off Anomen?" Imoen's question seemed to come out of nowhere.
"I don't understand."
"Who tells off Anomen Delryn? At the end, somebody's got to do it. Is it Jan? Who?" Imoen was almost begging.
"Nobody. Nobody tells him off. He lives oblivious." Rhiann's voice was calm and measured.
"You mean he wins? Ilmater, Rhiann! What did you bring me along on this thing for?" Imoen was quickly dissolving into hysterics.
"You know, you recently lost your soul and you're taking this romance very seriously. I think we better stop now." In Rhiann's mind, her sister came before any possible love interests. If her attraction to Solaufein was unbalancing Imoen, she'd just have to put him on hold until she recovered.
"No! I'm okay. I'm okay," Imoen said, gesturing back toward the pool. "Keep lusting after him him. All right?"
"Okay," Rhiann replied more cheerfully. "All right, now, let's see. Where were we? Oh yes. We were dealing with the Brood of Despair."
Sorry, couldn't
resist. "Decisions" clearly needs a serious sequel. Get to work, Jonte! Legions of fans cheer your name.