Post by Durriac on Sept 5, 2005 8:02:08 GMT -5
OOC: I get a big room! Yay! Anyways, this description was originally my description on the Horde, so here it is again, with some modifications.
BIC:*the ferret had finally finished lugging his belongings from his old room to his new room, which was one of the nicest rooms, as he was Second in Command. He reflects momentarily on his rise to power, then concentrates on not dropping anything. He didn't have much, which made it easier on the ferret for bringing his stuff to his new room, which he gladly reflected was larger than his officer room, which hadn't been cramped, but stil....he liked the size of the room. Looking out the window, he realizes just how high up he is, which doesn't do much to allay his slight fear of heights. He opens the closet and shoves his clothes in willy-nilly, organization never being one his strengths. He kicks in a rogue sleeve and slams the door shut, hearing a thump as the clothes behind slump against the door, ready to attack anyone who wasn't careful enough. As he closed the latch, he decided to find a stick so he could open the door without being buried alive. He wasn't especially learned, in fact illiterate, so there weren't any books, but there were a few maps and drawings he had, so he stuffed them into a drawer into his new desk. With a few nails he had found lying around, he tacked up important proclamations on a wall, such as his Second in Command promotion, using the pommel of his cutlass to hammer the nails in the loose joints of the stone. Copying his name from the proclamation, he etched his name onto the back of the door, like he had with his own room, with a knife he had. Finally, he hung up his cutlass, pilum, and shield on a rack on one wall, with his chainmail and leather gloves next to them. He slid the knife under his pillow just in case he should need it. He looked around, content with his new surroundings, and then jumped like a Dibbun onto his new bed, which was pleasantly squishy.*
BIC:*the ferret had finally finished lugging his belongings from his old room to his new room, which was one of the nicest rooms, as he was Second in Command. He reflects momentarily on his rise to power, then concentrates on not dropping anything. He didn't have much, which made it easier on the ferret for bringing his stuff to his new room, which he gladly reflected was larger than his officer room, which hadn't been cramped, but stil....he liked the size of the room. Looking out the window, he realizes just how high up he is, which doesn't do much to allay his slight fear of heights. He opens the closet and shoves his clothes in willy-nilly, organization never being one his strengths. He kicks in a rogue sleeve and slams the door shut, hearing a thump as the clothes behind slump against the door, ready to attack anyone who wasn't careful enough. As he closed the latch, he decided to find a stick so he could open the door without being buried alive. He wasn't especially learned, in fact illiterate, so there weren't any books, but there were a few maps and drawings he had, so he stuffed them into a drawer into his new desk. With a few nails he had found lying around, he tacked up important proclamations on a wall, such as his Second in Command promotion, using the pommel of his cutlass to hammer the nails in the loose joints of the stone. Copying his name from the proclamation, he etched his name onto the back of the door, like he had with his own room, with a knife he had. Finally, he hung up his cutlass, pilum, and shield on a rack on one wall, with his chainmail and leather gloves next to them. He slid the knife under his pillow just in case he should need it. He looked around, content with his new surroundings, and then jumped like a Dibbun onto his new bed, which was pleasantly squishy.*